


for the last time, we aren’t friends

by mingyuwu



Category: Enemies to Friends Trope, High School AU - Fandom, ITZY (Band), SEVENTEEN (Band), Stray Kids (Band), TWICE (Band), 방탄소년단 | Bangtan Boys | BTS
Genre: 96 line - Freeform, Angst, Domestic Violence, Drug Use, Fluff, Gay, General fluff, God they’re idiots, High School AU, I haven’t planned this out at all, Implied Relationships, Infrequent Updates, JiHan, Jihoon sweetie I’m so sorry, JunHao - Freeform, LGBTQ Themes, Literally screw it, M/M, Macaron, Military Families, Mingyu pines, Minor Angst, Platonic Relationships, Polyamorous Character, Someone find Jun, Soonyoung Jihoon??, Tutoring, Unrequited Love, Wonwoo Soonyoung??, Wonwoo is stressed, actually its very gay, boogyu incoming, booseok siblings!?!, chansol matchmakers, closeted gays, eventual junhao, gyuboo?!!, hardcore shipping hyunsung btw, hot bisexuals, jeongcheolshua need relationship therapy, joshua has an Identity Complex, joshua is a homewrecker, jungkook is the cutest little brother, junhui is foreign and confused, may not be ot13, minghao owns lavender detergent, seungkwan pines, side jeongcheol, soonwoo, verchan best friends, vminkook best friends - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-28
Updated: 2021-02-15
Packaged: 2021-03-07 00:00:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 31
Words: 136,290
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26157700
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mingyuwu/pseuds/mingyuwu
Summary: Jeon Wonwoo, the young stiff-backed academic. Kwon Soonyoung, the boisterous theatre kid. Lee Jihoon, the quiet youth always reading psych books behind the shelves. And Wen Junhui, the Chinese transfer student that barely speaks a lick of Korean but still has way too much to say.Four high school juniors, a scratched up library table, heavy backstories, confusing morals, tangled friend groups, and general dislike bordering on outright hatred.This year is looking great.
Relationships: Boo Seungkwan/Kim Mingyu, Choi Seungcheol | S.Coups/Yoon Jeonghan, Chwe Hansol | Vernon/Hong Jisoo | Joshua, Hong Jisoo | Joshua/Yoon Jeonghan, Jeon Wonwoo/Kwon Soonyoung | Hoshi, Kwon Soonyoung | Hoshi/Lee Jihoon | Woozi, Wen Jun Hui | Jun/Xu Ming Hao | The8, not all relationships are romantic ones sorry
Comments: 119
Kudos: 233





	1. a failed quiz and certain foreboding

**Author's Note:**

> hey! cheers to my first ao3 fic. i literally have zero idea where this is going because i don’t usually write fluff and i can’t rlly kill anyone off here. 
> 
> i really take my time with plot lines so expect somewhere around 70 chapters. if long storylines aren’t for you, then this isn’t it :) 
> 
> id also appreciate if you took time to read every chapter! crafting backstories is hard and i take time on it. not shading those of u here for soonwoo / jeongcheolshua/ junhao/ other ships,,, but there’s SO much more that this story has to offer!
> 
> without further ado here we go!! i try to update around twice a week. 
> 
> for more story updates/ extra nonsense: 
> 
> twt: @mingyutteok OR @ggukarchives 
> 
> #forthelasttime_mingyuwu is the hashtag for this story on twt! i’ll be posting there when chapters are uploaded so make sure u check it out 
> 
> thanks for reading!

**_-act one; heng:garae -_ **

Jeon Wonwoo was drowning in calculus when he felt a tap on his shoulder. 

The dark haired youth jerked his head up from his textbook, cold eyes piercing into the eyes of his taken aback teacher. 

“Wonwoo. Can we talk?”

Bewildered, Wonwoo followed his math professor to the man’s desk, wondering what he’d done. 

The room was quiet with the sounds of chairs moving slightly as his classmates shifted in their seats, pencils scratching as they worked. Wonwoo had already completed his assignment and- before his teacher had interrupted his concentration- had been working through tomorrow’s lesson. 

Wonwoo’s nonsensical fears intensified as they neared the teacher’s desk. He’d missed two points on the last exam, but he’d made up for it by proofing the last problem on today’s quiz in three different ways. That should be more than sufficient to win him back his top of the class status in second hour calculus. 

His teacher sat down and gestured for Wonwoo to take the seat opposite his desk. Still hesitant, the lean boy slowly lowered into the stiff wooden chair. 

It was quiet for a few minutes, before his teacher exhaled. “Wonwoo, I need to ask you a favor.” He spoke very quietly, eyes scanning the students still working on their quizzes even as he spoke to Wonwoo. 

“Yes?” Wonwoo asked, his usually deep voice slightly pitching higher out of anxiety. 

His teacher shuffled his papers, looking troubled as he extracted a single sheet from the stack, handing it to Wonwoo. 

It was the last exam they’d taken, the name and class period at the top covered by a sharpie scrawl. Wonwoo’s quick moving eyes scanned the paper, noting as he moved down the several elementary-like mistakes in the calculations, harsh red pen drawing attention to the mistakes. Wonwoo raised his eyes back to the top of the paper, noticing the sharp 42/100 in the score box. 

“Stop looking!” a voice cut through the quiet room, and everyone- Wonwoo and his professor included- glanced around to find Boo Seungkwan glaring at his deskmate, arms protectively folded over his paper. 

“I was not!” Kim Mingyu spluttered, his face flushing as he glanced quickly at the teacher, turning back to his own paper hastily. 

“Mingyu, switch seats with Seokmin,” the professor said wearily, turning his attention back to Wonwoo as the tall boy shuffled across the room, still blushing. Seungkwan huffed irritably, bending his head over his paper again. 

Wonwoo shook his head, seemingly disapproving, although he couldn’t help but smile slightly at Mingyu’s antics, something that had initially pushed Wonwoo from his now best friend. Opposites attract, Wonwoo supposed. 

The teacher turned back to Wonwoo, lowering his voice as he nodded to the paper in his slender fingers. “That student is from another class period. I can’t give you any other information unless you agree with what I’m about to ask you.” 

“Sir,” Wonwoo said weakly, knowing where this was going. “I can’t-“ 

“Wonwoo, I’m offering you extra credit just to tutor this kid at most three times a week. I don’t want to intimidate him by having private lessons with me. He’s in your year and a sweet kid, just needs a little help and someone his age could make him feel more comfortable.” His teacher raised his voice. “Focus on your tests please.” 

Wonwoo didn’t have to turn around to know that several of his classmates were watching them curiously, no doubt wondering why Wonwoo, of all people, was sitting at the teacher’s desk. 

Wonwoo raised his eyes to his teacher, who looked mildly stressed.

”Just one session?” His teacher persuaded. “To see if you could do it.” 

Wonwoo lightly bit his lip, wondering if anyone getting a 42/100 in the first month of this class would even benefit from help. 

But this person had clearly struggled, Wonwoo realized as he looked at the paper and noticed the numerous eraser marks and faded pencil. They’d actually tried, and that was more than he could say for a lot of his classmates. 

“One session,” Wonwoo exhaled. 

“Thank you, Wonwoo.” His teacher seemed pleased and somewhat relieved. “I think it’ll help him a lot. Here’s his name and schedule- you two have lunch together. And- I’m pretty sure it doesn’t need saying- don’t talk to others about this unless he’s comfortable. Many kids find it embarrassing to have tutoring, and although he’s quite outgoing I don’t want to assume. Thank you.” 

Wonwoo nodded, handing the failed exam back to his teacher and taking the slip that he was offered as he walked back to his desk, pausing to prod Mingyu’s arm upon noticing the slightly younger boy sneakily checking his answers with Yoon Jeonghan, who was probably the worst person for Mingyu to end up sitting next to.

Both conspirators looked up, grinning as they gestured at Wonwoo to keep it down, going back at it. 

Shaking his head, Wonwoo slid back into his seat, smiling slightly at his deskmate Hwang Hyunjin, who was frantically typing into his calculator. 

As the bell rang, students quickly completing their quizzes and hurrying to the front of the room, Wonwoo stood and slung his bag over his shoulder, walking to where Mingyu was waiting, still grinning. 

“That stupid Boo Seungkwan and his do-goody habits,” Mingyu launched into speech as soon as Wonwoo got into his range. Wonwoo rolled his eyes and dragged Mingyu into the hallway before Mingyu would loudmouth his own cheating tactics right in front of their teacher. “I wasn’t even copying, Won, literally just having a tiny peek to see if he’d labeled his axis the same as me, he had to go cause a scene-“ Mingyu broke off upon realizing Wonwoo was no longer listening, and began tugging his sleeve. “Won. Won! By the way, what did he want with you?” 

“Tutor some kid,” Wonwoo said, but Mingyu had already lost interest, his attention span reminding Wonwoo of a flitting butterfly as Mingyu ran off, waving at his soccer friends- not before leaving Wonwoo with a “see you in history!” 

Wonwoo rolled his eyes, but smiled fondly as he continued down the hallway to Korean Literature, halfway down the corridor before remembering the slip still in his hand. 

He glanced at it, immediately gaining a sense of foreboding at the name neatly written out on it. 

_Kwon Soonyoung_.


	2. a miserable dinner and an unwelcome text

“-and after that, we decided to split profits and it ended up pretty even, 40-60.” 

“That’s lovely, dear. Soonyoung, honey, you’ve barely touched your plate.” 

Soonyoung startled at the sound of his mother’s voice and glanced up to see her worried expression.

”I thought  _kalguksu_ was your favorite,” his mother added. 

“Ah... yeah. Just thinking about school,” Soonyoung said quietly, miserably twirling noodles around his chopsticks and taking the tiniest bite to appease his mother.

”Is everything alright?” his father added, looking similarly concerned.

”Mhm.” Soonyoung bit his lip, trying not to cry. “Just not so hungry.” 

“Is anything bothering you?” his mother asked gently. “I know you’re stressed about the audition results, honey-“ 

“It’s not the audition!” Soonyoung blurted out, immediately following with a shamefully mumbled apology for his outburst. “I’m sorry. I- I have to go study.” He added quickly, putting down his chopsticks. “Um- goodnight.” 

With that he hurried to his room, locking the door behind himself as he sank onto his bed, letting tears leak onto his pillow as he tried to think of anything but the crumpled paper with a 42/100 on it, buried deep in the mess of his backpack. 

Soonyoung used to love math. That was; when numbers were easy and you’d get ten fruit snacks for your word problems and you could eat them when you were done. Now the concepts had progressed to a level where everything was theoretical and everyone, everyone seemed to understand but him. 

And now everything was too confusing for him, now things had muddled in his mind but he was too scared to tell anyone how much help he needed when it came to math. 

If he dared to tell his parents, they might think that his dedication to theater might be the reason he was falling behind in math. They’d pull him from the musical, they’d take him out of improv and choir, they’d drop him in hours upon hours of monotonous cram school. 

And that was the last thing Soonyoung wanted. 

But if he kept going like this- gods, if he kept this up he’d end with a D in calculus and they’d find out when the grades arrived during the semester break. 

He was digging himself into a mental rabbit hole when his phone let out a  tring , alerting him to a new message. 

Soonyoung blinked tears from his eyes as he scrolled through the barrage of notifications he’d neglected for the last few hours. Nagging texts from Seungkwan and Seokmin about changing the time for their chamber singers meeting tomorrow morning, a few snaps from Chan showcasing the younger boy posing with some dance friends, a few mushy tweets from Seungcheol and Jeonghan as they flirted on Soonyoung’s timeline. And the newest one, a message from an unknown number. 

Soonyoung frowned as he swiped up, entering the conversation.

_Hi. This is Wonwoo_ , the message read. 

A sickening feeling crashed over Soonyoung, and for a second he couldn’t breathe. 

Memories filled him, memories that Soonyoung claimed made him feel revolt and hatred when all he really felt was buried under a tidal wave of shame and regret. 

_Hey_ , he said simply. 

Wonwoo was typing again.

_I got a new phone a while ago. Mingyu gave me your number._

Soonyoung was staring at his phone still, feeling like he was going to throw up. He felt the urge to cry again. 

_How’ve you been?_ Wonwoo added. 

Soonyoung stared dumbly at his phone, not sure what to say. 

_Good_ , he mustered. 

He felt the urge to ask about Wonwoo, and at the last minute added an ‘ _And you?_ ’

_I’m alright._

_Soo Seonsaeng held me back after calc today._

_He wants me to tutor you._

Soonyoung shut his eyes tightly. No. This could not be happening. No. No. 

_Oh_ , was all he could reply with.

_Yeah_ , Wonwoo typed.  _We have fifth lunch together. Is tomorrow okay?_

_I guess,_ Soonyoung replied.  _See you then._

_Bye_. 

Soonyoung stared blankly at the chat, the lack of the green circle at the top informing him Wonwoo was offline. 

Anger filled him just at the thought of that name, and he tossed his phone across the room and buried his face in his pillow again, knowing that crying would ruin his throat for tomorrow’s early morning chamber rehearsal.

But he couldn’t stop himself, not when this was now the worst thing to happen to him all week.

Out of all the people to tutor him, it had to be Jeon Wonwoo. 

Just his luck. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ooooo.... wonwoo soonyoung tea? to be revealed later.   
> jihoon is coming soon!  
> i don’t often update twice or thrice a day but since today is the first day of the fic i guess i’ll give u guys all of the main characters first chapters XDDD


	3. a textbook and muted shouting

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> trigger warning: DOMESTIC ABUSE. Please read at your own comfort. I am not responsible or accountable for actions you may take if triggered by the topic mentioned in this chapter.

Lee Jihoon was busy constructing an alternate reality.

One that would separate him from what was happening downstairs.

”You never keep your promises!” he heard his mother faintly shout, before the sound of an echoing slap silenced her momentarily. 

Jihoon buried himself deeper in his blankets, pressing his hands over his ears as he attempted to focus on his psychology book, desperately wanting to block out the yelling back-and-forth in the kitchen. 

Jihoon wished that he could go back to elementary school, when not everything revolved around the arguments his parents now picked at every opportunity. His primary education days consisted of walking to and from school with his parents every single day, hopping between them as he talked and talked and talked and they listened, laughing in adoration at his childish speaking style while gazing at each other as if they had bought the whole sky for their partner. 

Jihoon never talked anymore, but it’s not like his parents noticed. Jihoon didn’t really have friends anymore either, but that was far from his parents’ radar anyway.

”You were flirting with her!” his mother screeched and then his father yelled back that _no, he was not_ , and that _they were just colleagues_ \- “Then explain driving her home!” 

Jihoon rubbed his temples miserably. He absolutely hated to even think it, but sometimes he wished that they’d just gotten a divorce before the the mess had gotten to this point. He wasn’t even sure when his father had started hitting his mother. Maybe it’d started when Jihoon was in middle school, maybe in the last year, or maybe it’d always been lurking beneath their picture perfect marriage. 

Jihoon sighed, shutting his psychology books and taking off his glasses, rolling over to stare at the ceiling looming over his bed, a dull gray color that pretty much summed up how he felt. 

He was hopeless. What was the point of reading all those books if he couldn’t even help his own parents fix their problems? Maybe this was all his fault. 

Jihoon had been obsessed with psychology since before he could remember. The theory of it, the studies conducted, the results, the conditions and afflictions of the human mind and behavior, every part of it fascinated him. 

He wasn’t even sure why he’d been drawn to it from such a young age, but nowadays he wondered if maybe it was just his subconscious trying to figure out and heal whatever was wrong with and between his parents- in a strange and twisted way. It’d developed into a passionate love and interest for the subject and everything it encompassed.

It wasn’t in any way helping, that much was clear. 

Jihoon scrunched up his eyes, feeling sleep steal over him. There used to be nights that he’d lay curled up here, forcing himself to stay awake to make sure they didn’t murder each other downstairs. 

He didn’t bother anymore, because in a sad way he knew they’d push each other to the tip of extreme before retreating. There was, after all, no point in ruining everything permanently because then they’d have nobody to fight with the next day at their convenience. 

Jihoon was at least grateful that for the most of it, they seemed to keep him out of their drama. Thank god. He could barely take living in this house, wondering why they couldn’t be like any other family. He may lose it if they asked him to take sides. 

Deciding to sleep, he yawned and drew the blankets around himself, snuggling tighter in them as he let his eyes close. 

Waiting for another day of sloughing through classes before the library granted him a beautiful reprieve, lost in time as he wandered the shelves, the feeling of paper under his fingers as he let himself free in the pages. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> jihoon :(  
> our junnie is coming in the next chapter!  
> as always, thanks for reading, your comments and kudos make me so happy!


	4. a plate of eggs and a new school

“Jun! Up!” 

“I am!” Junhui yelled over the banister, his mother’s comforting Shenzhen dialect bringing a small soothing feeling to his nerves- but not much. His usual bright energy was dampened today, and he felt like a dimmed lightbulb. 

He pulled on the uniform that he hated with all his might, buttoning it carelessly before grabbing his schoolbag, full of textbooks that he could barely read (much less comprehend).

Walking downstairs, he glanced around, wondering how anyone could be so happy today.

The entire house was bustling with life- four out of his five younger siblings getting ready for primary or middle school, fixing their uniforms, comparing the Korean style to the Chinese one they were so used to, packing their lunches and jumping around with excitement. 

Junhui’s mother was frying a veritable mountain of eggs, laughing as Jun’s father performed various antics to the delight of Jun’s youngest sibling, the baby boy in the high chair shrieking with joy as Jun’s father drew his chopsticks closer and then further to him, making airplane noises before delivering food to the impatient child’s mouth. 

Junhui was stopped by his mother halfway across the kitchen, a plate of eggs pushed into his hands along with a reprimand for him to eat well. 

“Honey, your buttons,” his mother added, and Jun glanced down, eyes widening as he realized he’d mismatched the buttons and now his uniform was lurched up on one side. 

“Thanks,” he said gratefully- his mother had spared him from any extra embarrassment than what he was slated to endure today. Quickly putting down his plate at the table, he fixed the buttons before sliding into his seat and picking miserably at his food, his stomach burning with an anxiety that overran his appetite. 

“Aren’t they so excited?” Jun’s father beamed, watching the twins play excitedly as they waited for the bus, their pigtails swinging in the air as they danced around the kitchen with their fifth grade brother, the middle child. Their second oldest brother, four years younger than Junhui, was sitting and watching them with a blank expression, no doubt wondering how he’d fare on his first day of seventh grade.

”I told you all, this move is a great decision for our family and the business,” Jun’s father added. 

_Great for you_ , Jun thought. _At least you know how to communicate with people here._ He looked over at his siblings again, feeling slightly jealous. _And at their age, it’s easy to make friends no matter what language you speak._

Jun’s father had been going back and forth between China and Korea for the last three years for work, and they’d suddenly made the brilliant decision to just move to Korea so that the business could run smoother. Move to a foreign country one month into the school year, and throw them all into public schools and let them fend for themselves. 

Jun wasn’t quite bothered by the move itself, he hadn’t had much in a China except a few friends, and they weren’t close friends anyway. And Jun’s father had told them that their family would be visiting Shenzhen quite often during the holidays, so he wasn’t exactly homesick for those reasons.

He was homesick because he loved to run his mouth but if he did that here, people would sit and stare at him with wide eyes because he could only run his mouth in Chinese and they wouldn’t be able to understand him.

And today was day one in the ring, and Jun couldn’t remember ever being more nervous in his life. 

Mr. Wen smiled at Jun. “Remember all your phrases?” 

Jun nodded, feeling nauseated at the thought of forgetting the few key sentences his father had drilled into his head- _Help me, I’m lost, I’m new, how do I get to __, what’s your name, I’m from China, I speak a little Korean, could you speak slower, please repeat that._

“The rest will come naturally,” his father had assured him when they’d been reviewing these phrases. “Korean is easy to pick up. And it’ll be easy the first few weeks. You just write down anything you don’t know and I’ll help you when you’re home. The principal and teachers know you’re not from here, of course. There won’t be too much pressure.” 

Now, Junhui attempted to squeeze in some last minute practice by staring at the newspaper laying discarded on the table, trying his best to comprehend what it was talking about. After trying to simultaneously string together and remember the order of syllables of the sentence he was reading while deciphering what on earth the sentence meant, he gave up and promptly slumped in his seat, feeling desolate.

“Bus! Bus!” Xiuying shrieked, dragging her twin along. Mingmei echoed her excitedly, the pair already bouncing up and down at the doorway. 

Jun dutifully rushed to the stove to manage the eggs as his mother ran to help the twins with their backpacks, walking them out to the bus along with Taihua, leaving Jun and Weiyuan with their father. 

“Wei,” his father said, glancing at the clock as the middle schooler glanced up. “Best get your shoes on. I heard the middle school bus comes right after the elementary school one.” 

Weiyuan nodded obediently, hopping down from his seat and going to the mess of shoes at the doorway. 

“Ba?” Jun asked. His father glanced up. “When is my bus?” 

“You should’ve practiced saying that in Korean,” his father primarily admonished, then checked his watch. “School starts in fifteen minutes, and the high school is close enough that you don’t have a bus. But I could drive you this morning. Get some father-son man time, yeah?” 

“Great,” Jun mumbled.

Soon he was sitting in the back seat of his father’s luxury Mercedes, fiddling with his backpack strap. His fingers were trembling horribly and he suddenly wished he hadn’t eaten so much at breakfast. 

“Remember everything I taught you?” his father asked again, glancing through the rearview mirror at Jun.

”Mhm,” Jun forced a smile on. His parents already had enough to worry about, what with his younger siblings and work. He was the oldest, he was supposed to lead as example, and he wasn’t going to make a fool out of himself- or at least, not tell his family if he did. 

“You’re going to be fine, son,” his father said, pulling into the circle drive of a large building, students milling beyond the large double gates of the school. Jun gulped. It was just as intimidating as when they’d driven past it on the way to their house from the airport two days ago. “The teachers here are very good, and my colleagues have kids that go here. Everyone has great things to say. You’re going to be fine.” 

Jun nodded fervently, either wanting to get out of the car this moment or just sink deep into his seat and never be found again. He felt that if he didn’t seize the door this instant he’d never have the courage to. 

“Listen,” his father said calmly, turning to face Jun. “I know you’re nervous, Junnie, we all can tell. You haven’t been your usual self this morning and it’s completely understandable. New school, new kids, new language. But give it time here. I promise you’ll love it.” 

Jun smiled weakly at his father. “Okay.”

” _Jjayo_!” his father added, putting on a stern face as he brandished a fist in the air, grinning at Jun. This was the old send-off on the first day of school when Jun was younger- a simple phrase along the lines of “cheer up!” meant to appease their nerves. 

“Ba,” Junhui moaned in exasperation, opening the door. “Way too old for that.” 

“Alright. I’ll settle with an I love you, then. Have a good first day, Junnie. You can search up the route home, yes?” 

“Yes, ba. Love you too.” Jun shut the door and turned to the front gates of the school, waving his father’s car goodbye before forcing himself to take one step after another and into the brick hell that he’d be trapped in for the next few hours. 

He glanced at the schedule in his pocket, wondering where on earth his class was. Trust Koreans to not have hallways by subject. 

Several students stopped to ask him if he was lost, but at this point all the phrases he’d learned were now swirling in his mind, mixing and settling in a confused desert of particles and syllables and unfamiliar words on his tongue that gave him looks of equal confusion from the nonplussed students.

Giving up on asking for help, Jun wandered the halls, dimly aware that the bell would ring soon and he’d be the only idiot that wouldn’t be in class.

Jun mindlessly wondered if perhaps- to his luck- he’d find another Chinese person in this maelstrom of students. 

Well, at this point, he had nothing to lose. 

So he began asking at first at a soft volume, hoping a salvation close by would hear and understand him. 

His volume grew after a few tentative utterances of “ _bāng wo!_ ”- _help me_ \- getting louder and attracting strange looks from passing students. 

Jun soon found himself jogging lightly through the halls, darting around students as he called again and again. 

He thought he heard a voice somewhere in the crowds behind him call out- “ _ni shì shéi?_ ” - _who are you_ \- the tone lilting and soft. 

Jun whirled around, his heart pounding, and crashed right into a firm, broad chest. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> aaaa all main characters are done! time to make their lives collide hehe. 
> 
> did anyone catch minghao’s lil cameo?   
> and also who’s the mystery person that Jun smashed into... XD
> 
> as always thanks for reading! pls don’t be silent, your kudos and comments keep me motivated to keep going!


	5. 5A. a first impression

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is part one of this chapter! i wanted to split it in two. expect the second half soon.

“-you can’t deny that the first punt I did in the second half was absolutely _amazing_ , Won. That ball flew, what, fifty yards?” Mingyu glanced at him for approval, nearly walking into another student before Wonwoo pulled him out of the way.

Wonwoo chuckled, casting Mingyu a fond look. “Gyu, it was like thirty.” 

“Still good for a substitute goalie!” Mingyu argued. “The crowd LOVED it.” 

A girl was suddenly in front of them, blushing as she shoved a red envelope at Mingyu before disappearing back into the masses. Mingyu gave it a confused look before stuffing it into his pocket.

”More like, the crowd loved YOU,” Wonwoo corrected. “Getting love letters every day... our Mingyu’s all grown up.” 

“Don’t baby me like that,” Mingyu frowned. “I’m barely a year younger than you. And I’m so smart that I’m in half of your classes too.”

”Smart enough to cheat off of Boo Seungkwan. Admirable. And it’s still hyung for you, brat.” Wonwoo rolled his eyes, navigating the morning hallway traffic and making sure Mingyu didn’t smash into anybody else- the latter was too busy beaming and waving at his various friends. Wonwoo lost count of how many people Mingyu seemed to know. It was like the entire school was in love with the handsome sophomore boy. 

“Anyways, did you see the sign for class president?” Mingyu asked, now concentrating on placing one foot within each tile as they walked aimlessly- first period was in seven minutes and they weren’t intending on getting to class early, of course. 

“What’s the point of trying out?” Wonwoo sighed. “Beyond asking me for homework help and a few fangirling comments about my ‘cold gaze’ nobody bothers to talk to me.” 

“ _I_ talk to you,” Mingyu protested, now focusing on skipping a tile between each step, having mastered and grown bored of the previous exercise. “And you do have a cold gaze, hyung. You could be an actor.” 

“Acting doesn’t get you anywhere in life,” Wonwoo said, then bit his lip as he remembered saying that to someone else a long time ago. It’d been one of the last words he’d said to them. 

Mingyu noticed his silence and flushed. “Sorry. I forgot- you don’t like to talk about-“

”No, it’s okay,” Wonwoo said hurriedly. He had promised to stop making a big deal out of it. Even he and Mingyu never discussed what had happened two years ago- not after the initial small, quiet talk a few hours after the incident had occurred. They’d had a silent understanding to not speak about it. 

This led him to remember what he’d wanted to tell Mingyu. 

“...and afterwards everyone got together and we went and got ramen,” Mingyu said, and Wonwoo was drawn out of his reverie to find Mingyu lost on another topic. 

“Mingyu,” Wonwoo sighed. “Remember the kid Soo Seonsaeng wanted me-“

”-and when we were there those girls from class 3-C like, followed us! They were all hiding at another booth and giggling and it was so weird, hyung-“ 

“Mingyu.” 

“-and when we got up to leave they all walked over and-“ 

“Mingyu!” 

The younger boy glanced over, eyes wide. “Yes?”

”Are you deaf, or stupid, or just obsessed with talking?” Wonwoo demanded. “Let me get a word in, it’s important.” 

“I’m all ears, hyung,” Mingyu said solemnly, waving at Jeonghan before turning to the older boy. 

“I’m tutoring Soonyoung.” 

Mingyu stopped dead in shock, and at that very second someone crashed into him, falling immediately to the floor. 

“Idiot, who told you to stop in the middle of the hallway,” Wonwoo chided Mingyu, who was already bending down to help up the frantic-eyed thin boy on the ground. 

“Are you okay?” Mingyu asked the boy, his eyes shining with apology. 

The boy instantly shoved him away, scanning somewhere over their heads as he simultaneously glared at Mingyu, a series of words in rapid Mandarin leaving his lips. Mingyu looked slightly frightened and stepped away, closer to Wonwoo, who realized he needed to take some control of the situation. 

”Hey-“ Wonwoo grasped the shoulder of the mystery boy, who was still looking around, eyebrows furrowed as if he had heard someone say his name. “Do you need help?” 

The boy glanced at him, irritable, then shrugged him off, a single word leaving his lips. Based on the tone, Wonwoo concluded it didn’t quite have a friendly intent. 

“Are you lost?” Mingyu asked tentatively, and Wonwoo glanced at where Mingyu was looking, the name badge pinned neatly to the boy’s lapel reading ‘Wen Jun Hui’. 

The boy’s eyes lit up slightly at the last word, clearly similar to some phrase he’d probably tried to memorize. He pointed at Mingyu while nodding. 

“Don’t- speak- Korean,” the boy mumbled, each word stilted and with a strange accent on each syllable. 

Wonwoo nodded, understanding. The kid clearly was foreign, lost, confused and didn’t know where his classes were. He gently tugged the schedule from the boy’s hands, much to the consternation of the other, who tried to grab it back. 

The paper ripped.

The boy began exclaiming rapidly in Mandarin again, gesturing angrily at Wonwoo.

“Now look what you’ve done,” Wonwoo said exasperatedly. “I’m trying to _help_ you.” 

The boy huffed, but nevertheless allowed Wonwoo to snatch both halves of the paper, aligning them. 

“He’s got first hour physics with you,” Mingyu pointed out, reading over Wonwoo’s shoulder. 

“I see that,” Wonwoo said, scanning the rest of the boy’s schedule. “Okay.” He glanced up at the boy again, realizing that he hadn’t introduced himself. “I’m Wonwoo,” he added, gesturing to himself before pointing at his friend. “He’s Mingyu, and he’s a pain in the ass.” 

Mingyu lightly pinched him, and the boy merely stared, evidently wanting his schedule back. 

“Okay. Touchy,” Wonwoo muttered. “We-“ he pointed between him and Junhui. “Have first hour-“ put up one finger then mimicked writing- “ together.” Once again he pointed between them. “I can take you.” He mimed two people walking together, and gestured at Junhui. 

Junhui scowled but nodded, teasing his paper from Wonwoo’s fingers and crossing his arms, still looking around them as if he’d lost something. 

“What are you looking for?” Mingyu asked curiously, not expecting Junhui to understand. 

Junhui, however, seemed to understand the questioning tone, and merely replied, “Mandarin.” 

Wonwoo and Mingyu shared a confused glance. 

“Mandarin... what? What about it?” Wonwoo prodded. 

“Mandarin,” Junhui insisted, staring intently down the hallway before calling out in Chinese. 

Mingyu shrugged at Wonwoo. “I don’t know what that means.” 

“Nor do I, genius.” Wonwoo took a deep breath, glancing back at Junhui. “The bell is ringing in five minutes,” he continued, pointing at the clock suspended in the hallway. “We should go.” 

“Go,” Junhui confirmed, nodding slowly. “Us?”

”Yeah, us. Come on.” Wonwoo shouldered his bag, waving Mingyu bye. “Talk to you at lunch. Oh, crap. I’ll be with- with him. Soonyoung.” 

Mingyu looked at him, gaze filled with doubt and pity. “Why’d you agree to that, hyung?” 

“I didn’t know it would be him,” Wonwoo confessed. “We’ll see how it goes, I guess.” 

“Good luck,” Mingyu said, still sounding unsure, and traipsed off, immediately finding another of his endless friends and walking off with them. 

Wonwoo felt Junhui aggressively tugging on his sleeve. “Oh, god, what?” 

“Mandarin!” Junhui hissed, pointing at the mullet-sporting boy Mingyu had left with. “Mandarin!” He glanced at Wonwoo’s expression and further elaborated, rather helplessly, “Voice!”

“I don’t understand,” Wonwoo said tiredly. “But we’re going to be late. Let’s go.” 

Jun shrugged him off, grumbling as they walked down the hallway. 

Wonwoo sighed. First this, and later Soonyoung. 

What a day it would be. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> wooo minghaos cameo part two 😆  
> anyways the next half of chapter 5 will have soonyoung and jihoon!  
> poor jun... he’s not having the best day 
> 
> as always your interactions give me strength to keep going! thanks for reading and please bookmark, share, subscribe, kudos, whatever!! i hope u have a good day ☺️


	6. 5B: a bad impression

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey everyone! school just started for me so i’ve been super super busy with assignments and pre-course work. nevertheless, i’m back!! 
> 
> i’ve decided to split chapter 5 into THREE parts not TWO so we’re going to have a 5a, b, and c. 
> 
> here’s 5b, giving some more insight in soonyoungs life as a chamber singer and hyper theater kid. maybe i projected myself a bit. enjoy!

“Too high,” Seokmin cut Soonyoung off, glancing back down at the sheet of music suspended between them on the stand. “You were sharp.” 

“Get some water,” Seungkwan said calmly, prodding Soonyoung out of the way to scan the sheet. “I’ll monitor you when you’re back.” 

Soonyoung ran a hand through his hair, fatigue straining his vocal cords even as he sipped water. The memory of crying into his pillow last night resurfaced, and he shoved it back down like how forced water down his throat.

”When everything you sing is that high, do you really even notice if it’s sharp?” Seungcheol, the lacrosse captain and senior class president, remarked. Seungcheol already knew this was a silly question. He’d been tagging around with them since their diapers. 

“Of course we do, love,” Jeonghan said matter-of-factly from where he was lounging in Seungcheol’s lap, the tennis captain and leader of their chamber group throwing his boyfriend a cheeky grin. “Like this-“ 

A high note pierced through the air and everyone covered their ears. 

“I do believe that’s a perfectly on-pitch B5, hyung,” Seokmin said, slowly removing his hands from his ears. 

“Maybe Jeonghan hyung should take over today,” Seungkwan joked, attempting seconds later a loud, screechy mockery of Soonyoung’s tired voice. 

“Your impressions are terrible,” Soonyoung glared, but now the other two were parroting with equally bad interpretations. “Anyway, I don’t need anyone taking over for a part that I should be able to sing,” Soonyoung declared, snatching the sheet back. “We have five minutes to the morning bell, let’s finish this section.” 

Jeonghan giggled, running a hand through his freshly-dyed platinum blonde hair, which he’d grown out slightly past the top of his ears and crimped lightly before dyeing it, resulting in general shocked admiration when he’d walked in this morning after his week away in Belize for a charity trip. In fact, he’d been at school yesterday to gather all his missing work, but had left early halfway through the day for his salon appointment. Seungcheol hadn’t let him go once in the last hour, and was still running his hand through the slightly younger boy’s hair in amazement. 

“I’m too tired to sing properly,” Jeonghan added. “Spent all week yelling over volunteers.” 

“He’s such an angel,” Seungkwan cooed sarcastically, earning a kick to the shin, Jeonghan lazily stretching out his foot from his supine position to aim for Seungkwan’s leg. “Hey! Don’t ruin our voices just because you can’t sing yourself.” 

“Can we focus?” Soonyoung cut them both off.

”Someone’s on edge,” Jeonghan noted, sitting up. 

“Is everything okay?” Seungcheol added, now paying attention to conversation (the lack of Jeonghan’s presence in his lap drawing him back into reality).

”He’s just worried about the audition results,” Seokmin said calmly, checking his phone as he slumped against the wall of the small soundproof practice room that the five of them were cloistered in. “Hyung, there’s still a week to wait. Don’t get all pent up.” 

“It’s not that,” Soonyoung said, scratching as he edited a note down a second interval, deciding it’d fit better. “Everyone- change the high E in the nineteenth measure to a D.” As pencils scratched on paper, Soonyoung continued. “Yeah, I’m worried about the audition- I don’t think I did my best, and I really wanted Arthur’s part. But even if I don’t get it, Seokie’s gonna get it and I’m cool with that. But I’m worried because...” Soonyoung exhaled, looking at these kids he’d known from his musical theatre family since before elementary school, since when they’d put on small musicals and plays for their parents, since when they’d been crawling on the floor and shrieking excitedly to Disney songs, soon enough jumping along to them as soon as they could walk. “I’ve got a... a problem.”

“A dilemma emerges!” Seungkwan snickered, ruining the sentimental mood Soonyoung had been in a few seconds previous.

“Shut up,” Soonyoung said lightly, then turned his attention back to the entire group. “I’m- I’ve been struggling in Calculus a lot. So much that I failed my last test- by a lot.”

“You could’ve asked us for help,” Seungcheol accused. “Why else am I taking Advanced Calculus? I had Calc last year.”

“And Seungkwan and I are literally in the same class,” Jeonghan said, gesturing between them. “Seungkwan’s two years ahead in math, okay. And I’m a genius.”

Soonyoung frowned. “Hyung, you’re a senior in Calculus instead Advanced Calc because you took the regular strand when we picked math paths in middle school. Plus, Mingyu told me that you two were checking answers during the quiz yesterday.”

Jeonghan rolled his eyes at the name of the soccer player, his enemy-like rival or his partner in crime, depending on his mood that day and how many hours of sleep he’d gotten the night before. “What does he know?”

Seungkwan had dimmed greatly at the mention of Mingyu’s name, and was now avidly searching through his backpack for something, clearly avoiding conversation. Soonyoung spared this strange behavior a glance of mild concern and a frown, before clearing his throat and continuing.  
“Anyway. Apparently Soo Seonsaeng asked some kid to teach me. Problem is. It’s not any random kid.”

“Can you make a compound sentence and just tell us already?” Jeonghan said, clearly still bruised from Soonyoung’s expository ‘regular strand’ jibe.

“Wonwoo’s going to be my tutor.”  
Seungcheol winced, Jeonghan’s eyes widened, and Seokmin dropped his water, which hit Seungkwan on the foot, causing the younger boy to yell with frustration.

“Who the hell besides you carries around those fifty-pound XXXL metal canisters?” Seungkwan spat as Seokmin retrieved his waterbottle, apologizing endlessly.

Soonyoung was still staring back at the two oldest hyungs, silently asking them for help or advice or anything to combat what he’d face today afternoon in the library with the worst person on this earth.

“I know- I know that you didn’t tell me everything,” Seungcheol said tentatively. “But- maybe you should forget it happened. It won’t be beneficial to your tutoring if all you can think about is that. Just be with him like how you are with Mingyu. He was involved, too, wasn’t he?”

“I can’t forget that,” Soonyoung said angrily. “I can’t. I have to be civil- friendly, I guess, with Mingyu because we’re on the same team. But Mingyu didn’t even do anything. It was Wonwoo. It was all Wonwoo.”

Soonyoung saw red as his heart began pounding, and he suddenly wanted to hit something or rip or break or crush something between his fists. “He’s the worst person in the world. If he was trapped in a flaming car, falling off a cliff, I’d wave him goodbye. I hate him. I hate him!”

“Calm down, hyung,” Seokmin said slowly. “I know- I know it’s not going to be easy to forgive him.”

“I will never forgive him,” Soonyoung said, flaring up again-

“But you need to pass Calculus,” Seokmin continued, cutting him off. “If not for your parent’s sake, then for the musical’s.”

“What?” Soonyoung said, bewildered.

  
“Hyung, you know that you need to have a certain grade pass requirement to participate in extracurriculars, right?” Seungkwan asked.

“And in my opinion, Kim Mingyu is hacking his grades in the teacher access system because there’s no way he’s passing sophomore chemistry, Korean Composition, History II, and Calculus all at once,” Jeonghan said haughtily, folding his arms.

Seokmin rolled his eyes. “Jeonghan hyung, with all due respect, Mingyu did get into Calculus- a junior class- with his math credits. You don’t see many sophomores in Calculus.”

“You don’t see many other freshmen in Calculus,” Seungkwan bragged.

Seungcheol threw him a look. “Chwe Hansol from the soccer team’s a freshman and he’s in Calculus. So is-”

“Did someone say freshmen in Calculus?” Chan breezed into the room, pointing at Seungcheol as he put down his dance bag, dabbing at his forehead. “Hyung, you’re not supposed to be here. This room is for chamber singers only, when we’re in rehearsal.”

“Consider me an honorary member,” Seungcheol rolled his eyes at the antics of the youngest of their friend circle, checking the time. “I’ve to go anyway. The secretary needed some papers to conduct the student council meeting after school today- I should get those to him before the bell so he has all day to review.” Seungcheol pecked Jeonghan’s lips. “Good to see you, love. Bye, everyone.”

“Bye,” everyone chorused back as Seungcheol left, the door making a whoosh sound as Chan pulled it back shut, locking the soundproofing again and yelling a note that was significantly higher than Jeonghan’s, just because he could.

“Anyway, if we’re talking about freshmen in Calculus, allow me to introduce myself,” Chan grinned, and everyone groaned. They’d heard this kind of spiel too often in the years they’d known the much younger boy. “Lee Chan, supposed to be in eighth grade, but no- transferred from seventh right to ninth, and tested into junior Calculus. Star golden child of Pledis High’s theater program as well as the dance team center. Pleased to make your-”

“Shut up,” Seungkwan crabbed, disappointed the spotlight had been stolen from him in such a way. “We get it, you’re amazing. A miracle of life.”

“I love watching you swell with jealousy, hyung,” Chan replied sweetly, snatching the sheet music from Soonyoung. “God, no. I don’t want to do the low part.”

“I did it last time,” Seokmin snapped. “It’s your turn. And I thought you were a ‘theater golden child’ are the low notes scaring you now?”

Soonyoung sighed, earning a pitying look from Jeonghan as the other three began bickering over the harmony parts. He sat down next to the older boy, taking another sip of water.

“Is there any way you can ask your teacher for another tutor?” Jeonghan voiced.

“I don’t want to cause any more problems,” Soonyoung admitted. “He’s nice enough to ask Wonwoo to do this. Although I don’t know how he got him to agree. Wonwoo hates me, after all.” Soonyoung laughed bitterly, not missing Jeonghan’s concerned gaze.

“And you might not be the only person getting tutoring,” Seokmin added. “Wonwoo might be helping out a lot of people.”

“He should help out his best friend before he comes to bother you,” Seungkwan said, looking irritable. “Stupid idiotic Kim. Always cheating off of me.”

“Another enemy’s been added to Seungkwan’s list,” Jeonghan teased.

“I hate him,” Seungkwan said, turning pink. “He’s so stupid. Everyone just loves him because he’s a soccer player and he’s apparently handsome. He’s not even that good looking.”

“Handsome?” Soonyoung momentarily forgot his worries as he leaned over, pinching Seungkwan’s cheek. “Seungkwannie thinks Mingyu is handsome?”

“He’s not that good looking, I said,” Seungkwan glared. “And he’s so clumsy. He broke the top off my mechanical pencil two days ago.”

“I thought you said he bought you like, three, to make up for it,” Jeonghan commented, and this time nobody missed the blush rising on Seungkwan’s cheeks.

“That’s different. He practically threw them at me. And he didn’t even say anything. Just a small ‘sorry’,” Seungkwan insisted, but the room was now lost in a chorus of ooing. “Shut up! I hate him. He’s so bothersome. He doesn’t even talk to me. Just cheats off of me.”

“Yeah, hyung, because if you’re looking at him like how you looked at Jeonghan a few seconds ago, he’d probably be too scared to say anything to you,” Chan snickered.

The bell rang at that moment, luckily saving Chan from Seungkwan’s glowering figure. “Great,” Jeonghan sighed. “I’m going to be late to AP Literature again.”

“At least your teacher loves you,” Seokmin said in retaliation. “I’m pretty convinced that my trigonometry teacher is plotting my murder.”

“Like all your other math teachers undoubtedly have,” Soonyoung replied. “I can’t blame her if she is.”

Laughing, they all left the room, but Soonyoung’s smile fell from his face seconds later as he thought of what was inevitably waiting for him at lunchtime.


	7. 5C: a reacquaintance

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> buckle up

“Just say you forgot to come!”

“Mingyu, no.” Wonwoo sighed, piling his books on top of his locker and reselecting the ones he’d need for his afternoon classes.

Mingyu whined, kicking at a neighboring locker lightly. “But I’m gonna be so lonely at lunch! You’re the only person that listens to me talk.”

“I don’t have a choice, Gyu. You open your mouth and other people’s minds stop working. I couldn’t do anything else even if I tried.”

Mingyu giggled slightly, bashful. “You say that, hyung, but you never tell me to shut up.” A pout reappeared on the tall boy’s lips, and he tugged on Wonwoo’s sleeve. “You said yourself that you don’t want to do it. Just text him saying you... you hit your head after fainting during running laps in gym. And... you’re in the infirmary.”

Wonwoo exhaled. “And when he comes to lunch because there won’t be tutoring, and finds me sitting next to you drowning in your monologues? Plus, it’s raining now and it’s been cloudy since morning. There’s no way he’d believe I was running laps in the rain.”

“Oh yeah...” Mingyu looked as downcast as the weather.

“Mingyu, you’re friends with practically half the school. Go and sit with Jeonghan and Seungcheol. We sit with them half the days anyway.”

Mingyu brightened. “Good idea.” He dimmed just as quickly. “But not as good as you ditching Soonyoung for me! I want to sit with you, hyung. The others are so boring.”

Wonwoo was hit with a barrage of flashbacks in which he’d held Mingyu back from doing a thousand incredibly stupid and reckless things, only to get the same label of ‘boring’ in reply. Trust Mingyu to change his narrative when Wonwoo was ‘deserting’ him to tutor the latter’s rival.

“Don’t make me list all the times you’ve called me boring too. And I promised Soo seonsaeng to tutor him. It’d be very rude of me to go back on that now.”

“But hyung,” Mingyu whined. “I’m bad at math too. You should help me first. Plus, you said today that we were going to revise for the history test.”

“You’re not bad at math. You just don’t have focus. And you have so many other friends to help you. You got a 92 on the last history test anyway, you’ll be fine this afternoon. Soonyoung is struggling and he deserves help.”

“I thought you’d never get within a five meter radius of Soonyoung again,” Mingyu complained. “And here you are voluntarily spending lunch with him.”

Wonwoo sighed again, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose as he surveyed his books, making sure he’d gathered all the correct ones. He was pretty sure that Mingyu would use every trick in the book and convince Wonwoo to melt, because if there was anything that could thaw Wonwoo’s icy-frozen heart when he’d completely made up his mind, it was Kim Mingyu and his big puppy eyes and childish behavior.

But he’d made a promise and it would be unfair to Soonyoung and their teacher if he lied just to get out this.

“I’ll make it up to you,” Wonwoo suggested, hoping this would be enough for Mingyu to go and socialize with his other friends. He wasn’t even sure why Mingyu always chose to hang out with him- best friends aside, Wonwoo was Mingyu’s polar opposite and Mingyu would be much better suited to run around laughing and screaming with his soccer friends or the equally rowdy lacrosse and tennis boys.

“How?” Mingyu pouted. “I’m revoking your best friend card.”  
Wonwoo rolled his eyes. “I’ll buy you jolly pong and come and sit at practice today.”

“Really?” Mingyu’s beaming smile was back. “And will you print out a giant picture of my face and wave it around, screaming with excitement whenever I make a goal? Even though it’s just practice? I’ll perform ten times better if you do that!”

“Don’t push it.” Wonwoo saw the look on Mingyu’s face and sighed, relenting in another direction. “I’ll run all the way down to the convenience store and get _cheongpodo_ for you too, before practice starts,” Wonwoo offered, naming a white grape candy that Mingyu could give up the soccer championship trophy for.

“Best friend card re-invoked!” Mingyu cheered, squeezing Wonwoo in a crushing hug that had the leaner boy gasping when he was released, reprimanding Mingyu for being so careless because Wonwoo didn’t have an ounce of muscle on his body and that the younger boy should be careful because one day he was going to snap every rib that Wonwoo possessed, and then he’d really get it-

Mingyu shoved a lunchbox into Wonwoo’s hands, cutting him off. “I made this for you! You can share with Soonyoung too, there’s quite a lot.” The taller glared down at him. “You better eat, hyung, you’re a stick!”

“Yes, yes,” Wonwoo said exasperatedly, earning another hug in reply and a ‘good luck at tutoring!’ before Mingyu flitted off, having caught sight of Jeonghan and Seungcheol and determined to catch up with them before they reached the cafeteria.

Wonwoo turned his back on that cheerful sight, resigning himself to an hour of hell.

He loitered by the doors of the library for a while, waiting for Soonyoung. Finally, he caught sight of the blonde round head weaving through students in the hallway ahead, and felt himself relax yet tense up at the same time at the sight of Soonyoung making his way over.

And everything was happening too fast, people were talking so loudly and bodies were everywhere and suddenly Soonyoung was in front of him, face flushed and breathing hard from evidently running from his last class and Wonwoo wanted to ask how he’d been but the words felt painful and wrong.

It had been quite some time since they’d last spoken. Two years.  
Wonwoo had spent two years watching flowers bud and blossom, playing late into summer nights, walking on red and yellow leaves, feeling the first snow’s chill settle in. All without Soonyoung next to him.

It had used to be the three of them- and although Wonwoo nowadays felt Mingyu unconsciously overcompensating, it wasn’t enough to fill the hole left by Soonyoung’s slim body when he’d left them for other friends and another life.

Well, he hadn’t left their lives completely. As a substitute on the soccer team, Soonyoung saw Mingyu quite frequently and Wonwoo knew that there had been no hard feelings after a while between those two.

Although they probably didn’t hang out outside of soccer events, Wonwoo was sure Soonyoung was friendly with Mingyu, despite initially ignoring him and neglecting him just as badly as he had to Wonwoo when the incident had happened.

The only person that Kwon Soonyoung was cold to was Wonwoo. The only person that diffused the light in Soonyoung’s eyes, the only person that dimmed Soonyoung’s energy.

But Wonwoo couldn’t blame him. He was the last person that could blame Soonyoung for that, and he felt that guilt when he spent long nights comforting a crying and confused Mingyu over the phone, telling his innocent best friend that it hadn’t been his fault at all that Soonyoung was cold-shouldering them, that he couldn’t have done anything to keep Soonyoung their friend, that Wonwoo had dealt the damage as equally as Soonyoung had and it wasn’t even close to Mingyu’s fault.

No, this was between the two of them.

Wonwoo and Soonyoung, the inseparable pair that had divided suddenly and abruptly like how ground split during an earthquake, ripping apart cleanly, pebbles trailing into the abyss between the two sides like ruined memories and forgotten promises of friendship and brotherhood.

“Hi,” Soonyoung now said, tersely watching Wonwoo, his round eyes darting everywhere. Wonwoo was stupidly reminded of that one video Mingyu had edited, a compilation from their camera rolls of various pictures and clips of Soonyoung and his wide eyes, accompanied by some ‘Hamzzi’ song that the two had been obsessed with at that time.

“Hey,” Wonwoo merely replied, and sighed, gesturing at the doors. “Let’s get to it.”

Soonyoung nodded, falling into step with him as they walked into the library, Wonwoo scanning the busy tables and side-eyeing Soonyoung, noticing how anxious he looked.

“Do you want to-” Wonwoo cleared his throat, hating how weak and unsure he sounded. He tried again. “Want to sit at the back? There’s a table behind the maths section.”

“That would be nice,” Soonyoung said gratefully, and Wonwoo led him over, glancing between shelves before he located the table in question, hidden at the back of the library where nobody bothered to venture.

They sat down next to each other- after a few seconds of awkwardly standing over the table as they silently contemplated where would be the least tense places to sit.

Wonwoo pulled out his textbook and a notebook, handing a blue pen to Soonyoung. “Let’s go over the questions from the last exam-“

“You don’t have to be doing this, you know.”

Wonwoo paused, unsure. “Doing what?”

Soonyoung gestured between them. “This. Tutoring me. I know you probably want nothing to do  
with me.”

“That’s not true,” Wonwoo said, and it really wasn’t. “I just promised Soo seonsaeng that I’d help you out. That’s all.”

Soonyoung nodded slowly. “Thanks, I guess.”

Wonwoo managed a small smile. “Yeah. Um, let’s look at number 15.”

Soonyoung nodded again, frowning as he looked back at the paper. “I don’t understand where I went wrong. I thought I calculated everything properly, I followed every step we did in class-”

“It’s a small mistake, really,” Wonwoo said, looking over Soonyoung’s shoulder. “See if you can find it.” He busied himself with flipping through the textbook for a page with a similar problem.

They were both distracted by the sound of a chair scraping at the other side of the table, and the pair looked up to find another boy calmly sitting down opposite them, opening a large book and gazing down at it.

The stranger was small and lean, and this much was affirmed as he curled up in his seat, the book in his lap. 

Wonwoo stared at the newcomer with confusion, then swiveled to look at Soonyoung, who was treating the stranger with the same look.

“Um,” Wonwoo said tentatively. “We’re already sitting here for a tutoring lesson.” He winced at how rude that sounded. “There are other tables in the main area of the library.”

The boy looked up, first at him then at Soonyoung, his expression blank as he hummed in reply and went back to his book.

“Are you ignoring us?” Soonyoung said loudly, and Wonwoo glared at him. Soonyoung had always been impulsive- Wonwoo certainly remembered that.

“No,” the boy said simply. “There’s four chairs at the table, you know. Anyone can sit anywhere they want.”

Wonwoo decided to just ignore him.

Unfortunately, Soonyoung did not have similar plans.

“We chose this table,” Soonyoung argued. “It was ours first!”

The other boy looked up, regarding Soonyoung coolly. “You should talk quietly, you know.  
People are trying to study.”

Soonyoung turned to look at Wonwoo, as if saying, _can you believe this guy_?

“We’ll let you sit here today,” Wonwoo said as politely as he could. “But- we might be using this table more frequently.”

“You can continue using my table,” the boy replied, and nobody missed the emphasis he placed on the second to last word.

“Okay,” Wonwoo said, getting slightly annoyed. “We’ll just see who gets to your table first,  
then.”

Soonyoung was looking between them.

“Good luck with that,” the boy said in a condescendingly careless way, turning back to his book.

Wonwoo was about to reach over and snatch the book from his hands and rip it up, but  
Soonyoung grabbed his hand as if knowing what he was thinking.

“Let’s focus on this.”

Wonwoo’s attention was now helplessly focusing on Soonyoung’s hand over his. It’d been a long  
time. They’d used to hold hands, even as best friends. There had been some sort of mutual understanding and comfort there. It had sort of become their thing.  
Wonwoo held hands with Mingyu sometimes, sure, but it really wasn’t the same as Soonyoung. And, Wonwoo remembered with a dry smile, he usually was holding Mingyu’s hand in an attempt to save the younger boy from whatever he was intent on accidentally tripping or stumbling over.

Soonyoung flushed as he noticed what Wonwoo had been staring at, and quickly unlinked their hands. “Come on. Help me with this, Won, I’m struggling.”

Wonwoo wished that Soonyoung hadn’t called him that. He swallowed the lump in his throat, forcing it to be dissolved with artificial hatred. “Right. So, you did follow most everything properly. But here- you were supposed to calculate for cosecant, but calculated for cosine instead- I guess because the shorthands are similar and your pencil was working ahead of your mind. And yeah... that screwed up the whole problem.”

Soonyoung nodded, his sharply slanted eyes narrowing as he scanned the problem over, lips forming a small ‘o’ shape as he let out a sound of understanding. “Wouldn’t be the first time my mind was too slow.”

Wonwoo wasn’t sure what he was referring to. There were a thousand stupid things that Soonyoung had done in the seventeen years they’d known each other.

“Yeah,” Wonwoo agreed, choosing to just move past it. “Okay, now look at 18 and see if you can figure that out.”

Soonyoung let out a whine. “Won, you’re supposed to tutor me,” he muttered, dropping his pencil and stretching out.

“This is tutoring,” Wonwoo said calmly. “And please, I’d appreciate if you used my full name.”

Soonyoung froze, glancing at him before picking up his pencil again, cheeks burning. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to.”

Wonwoo ducked his head, staring back at the textbook in an attempt to erase the awkwardness in the air. He was aware of the boy across the table staring at them, too.

“If you two came here to flirt awkwardly, you can leave. I can’t study with all this sexual tension in the air,” the boy across the table said snipingly.

“Why don’t you go and-” Soonyoung was pulled back into his seat by Wonwoo.

“Listen here,” Wonwoo said angrily, leaning across the table. “I don’t know what your deal is-” he squinted at the boy’s nametag. “Jihoon. I don’t know what got shoved up your ass this morning, Jihoon, but I’m trying to tutor this student and I’d appreciate it if you could leave. As valedictorian of the junior class I have a certain level of responsibility for my fellow students and you’re interfering in my tutoring session.”

Jihoon snorted. “Yeah, okay. You think you’re so cool, Jeon big-shot-brain-boy Wonwoo. I’ve heard all about you.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

Jihoon shrugged. “Nothing. Now go back to your tutoring.”

Wonwoo glared at the small boy, who was ignoring him again, nose deep in whatever book he was reading. 

Clenching his fist under the table, he turned back to Soonyoung. “Right. Number 18. Try and redo it if you can’t figure out the mistake.” 

Wonwoo watched as Soonyoung wrote, his mind spinning with memories. 

“How’s Mingyu?” Soonyoung asked mindlessly, scrawling out some calculations. 

“Thirty eight degrees, not forty eight,” Wonwoo corrected, pointing at the error that had been carelessly created when Soonyoung had transcribed the problem’s diagram into his notebook. “And I thought you have soccer with him?” 

“I’m only a sub. We don’t really practice together. Talk sometimes, I guess.” 

“Mingyu always talks about you, though.” Wonwoo paused, knowing it was risky, but went ahead with it. “He misses you.” 

Soonyoung raised his eyes to Wonwoo, and the taller boy was shocked to see an icy cold stare in them, so similar to the one Wonwoo had trained himself to have. “Right.” 

Wonwoo was silent. Soonyoung’s amiable talk earlier had been fake, then. Even the mention of his nickname had been part of Soonyoung’s effort of pretending the past didn’t exist. 

“I-“ Wonwoo began. 

“You can look Mingyu in the eyes and tell him it’s your fault that he misses me,” Soonyoung continued, still writing on the paper, not breaking eye contact with Wonwoo. “How’s that?” 

Jihoon was stealthily listening to them across the table, and it made Wonwoo feel even more ashamed. 

“So don’t give me that ‘Mingyu misses you’ crap,” Soonyoung finished, putting down his pencil and shoving the notebook at Wonwoo. “It’s disgusting. I know Mingyu’s a bigger- and better- person than you but you can’t hide behind him forever. So stop using Mingyu as your shield and say what you want to say without disguising your words as his. Have some decency.” Soonyoung chuckled bitterly. “Oh, wait, I forgot you’ll venture to the canyons of hell before you get some. Isn’t that why we stopped being friends in the first place?” 

Wonwoo had nothing to say. It was true. All of it was true. 

“Check the damn problem,” Soonyoung spat, busying himself with fiddling with his pen, brows drawn together in anger as Wonwoo quickly bent over his work. 

He knew that Soonyoung had been mad, of course. But he’d had no idea that it had been this bad. Wonwoo had never seen that look in Soonyoung’s eyes before. Ever. It was pure hatred and disappointment and stress and anger all snowballed into a whirlwind of malevolent icy cold indifference. 

Wonwoo dared to glance at Soonyoung a total of three more times in the duration of the rest of their lesson, choosing to lecture the problems while staring down at the paper, feeling a burning glare on him nevertheless. 

And it was with a crashing tsunami of relief rushing through him that Wonwoo began hurriedly packing his things as the bell rang. 

“I’ve got dance tomorrow during lunch,” Soonyoung said coldly as he swung his bag over his shoulder. “So I’ll see you Thursday.” 

Wonwoo opened his mouth to speak, but Soonyoung was already gone. 

“So who broke it off, him or you?”

Wonwoo turned to find the nosy bookboy watching him. 

“What?” he spat. 

“Did you break up with him?”

”Wha- no!” Wonwoo spluttered. “We- it’s none of your business. But he’s not my boyfriend or my ex or whatever- I’m not even- I’m straight,” he finished rather lamely. 

Jihoon nodded, once again with that wise look. “If you say so.” 

Wonwoo sighed, shaking his head as he walked out of the library.

He hadn’t told Soonyoung that this- this tutoring, it was a one time thing. Soonyoung, for whatever reason, must believe that Wonwoo was going to tutor him for- what? A few weeks, months?

Whatever it was, it was certainly horribly awkward between them now. And Wonwoo was not planning to contact an already belligerent Soonyoung to tell him that he was not going to tutor him anymore. 

So there was only one possibility.

Although right now, the task of seeing Soonyoung again was feeling equally daunting yet tempting. Daunting because the tension would be ten times worse the next time, yet tempting. Perhaps because Jeon Wonwoo hated losing and he certainly didn’t want to lose any chance of repairing a painfully ruined friendship because of Soonyoung’s stubbornness- and, he humbly reminded himself- his own pride and ego. No, it wouldn’t be easy, but it could be done. 

He could do it. Maybe he could explain himself, maybe they could come to something beyond the raging antipathy that was currently obvious on both sides.

Jeon Wonwoo was, after all, the epitome of patience.

Of course, until he slid into his seat next to Mingyu two hours later in History and was instantly assaulted with a whispered hundred page manuscript about the younger boy’s miserable time at lunch without him. 

Tuning out Mingyu’s chatter, Wonwoo began sharpening their pencils, focusing part of his mind on remembering information for the test the professor was already passing out to the front row, the other half busy with devising a solution to what he now was calling the ‘Soonyoung Predicament’.

Patience, indeed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> things are not looking so hot for the quartet right now. oh gods


	8. 6. grape candy and certain apathy

“So, when are you going to spill?” Mingyu demanded, trying valiantly to open the _cheongpodo_ packet. 

Wonwoo sighed, taking pity on the younger boy and wresting the packet away from him, carefully opening it and handing it back, only to get it shoved back into his hands. “Spill what?”

“What happened at tutoring! Feed me,” Mingyu demanded, pulling his cleat up on the bench and tying his laces. Wonwoo sighed yet again, delivering the candy to Mingyu’s mouth before sitting on the bench next to his best friend, facing up at him.

“It was alright,” Wonwoo began haltingly, then stopped as he noticed the other boys filtering out of the locker rooms and crossing the parking lot for the soccer field. Soonyoung was amongst them, wearing the blue jerseys that substitutes donned during practices. His hair was brushed back from his forehead, tied in place with a stupid little ponytail.

“Was it really awkward?” Mingyu questioned, straightening and taking the snack from Wonwoo, beginning to pace a tiny circle in front of the bench. 

“It wasn’t awkward,” Wonwoo said. “Well, no, that’s a lie, it definitely was. But it was more than that, I think. It felt really… cold. He didn’t want to be near me at all.” 

“That’s a given,” Mingyu said matter-of-factly, now hopping back and forth from one leg to another in an attempt to warm up. “But at least he’s not exploding at you.” 

“I’d rather he do that,” Wonwoo said. “The coldness is definitely worse.” 

Mingyu raised his arms over his head, catching his opposite elbow and stretching, his shirt riding up onto his chest, casually angling his body towards the stands in a carefree manner. “Then talk to him.” 

“How am I supposed to talk to him when all he did was glare at me?” Wonwoo said, mindlessly staring out at the half-empty bleachers, the rows closest to the field filled with numerous girls currently giggling over the moment of exposure that Mingyu had definitely planned beforehand. “And don’t flirt with them, they’re not worth it.” He added chidingly.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Mingyu said sweetly, now choosing to ‘adjust’ his shirt in a way that was definitely not necessary. Giggles floated over from the bleachers once more and Wonwoo threw his best friend a dirty look. 

“Do you know a Lee Jihoon?” Wonwoo questioned next. 

Mingyu shrugged, flopping onto the grass and staring up at the sky. “Probably a thousand Jihoons in the school. No, though. Why?” 

“He was being a total ass,” Wonwoo said irritably. “We were sitting and just working and he came and sat down at our table and got all sassy with us and wouldn’t leave.” 

“Huh,” Mingyu said, dragging his fingers through the turf. “I dunno. There are weirdos everywhere. Speaking of weirdos, what was up with that Junhui guy this morning?” 

Wonwoo shrugged. “Confused transfer student, what else?” 

“Yeah, but that ‘Mandarin’ thing was weird.” Mingyu shook his head, then frowned, running a hand through the brown locks. “Forgot to hairspray this morning.” 

Wonwoo crossed his legs on the bench, gazing out on the field. “I don’t know what to do.” 

Mingyu rolled onto his side, tiny pieces of the turf caught in his hair and on his turquoise-and-fuchsia soccer uniform. “Do about what?” He offered the packet of candy to Wonwoo, who shook his head in reply. 

“Soonyoung made it sound like he was expecting more lessons. But Soo _seonsaeng_ had told me that it was only one session.” 

Mingyu blinked up at him with his dumb big clueless eyes. 

“Soonyoung thinks we’re gonna keep tutoring but that’s not what I had planned,” Wonwoo sighed, simplifying. 

“So tell him you’re not,” Mingyu said as if it was the easiest thing in the world, sitting up and allowing Wonwoo to brush the grass off his hair. 

“I’m telling you it’s not so simple,” Wonwoo said, getting frustrated. “You know how bad things are between us. You know better than anyone.” 

Mingyu crumpled the empty packet in his hand. “I know.” 

“So stop telling me to talk to him like I’m a child.” 

“You two won’t get anywhere if you don’t talk.”

“Maybe I don’t want to get anywhere with him. He’s an ass and I could care less about what he thought about me.” Wonwoo snapped. 

“Is that so?” Mingyu said, sounding slightly cold too now. 

Wonwoo raised an eyebrow. “Excuse me?” He couldn’t believe Mingyu was talking to him like this. “I’m a year older than you. Don’t speak to me that way.” 

“I’m not trying to tell you what to do, hyung. But you can’t keep complaining about him glaring at you or being cold to you.” Mingyu raised his eyes to Wonwoo. “It was your fault, hyung. I know he had a part in it but you have to know it was your fault.” 

“Yeah, cause that makes me feel great.” Wonwoo replied sarcastically. “Excellent best friend support. Stellar.”

Mingyu was about to reply, but the coach on the other side of the field blew his whistle, and boys began gathering around him. 

Wonwoo didn’t want to part on slightly hostile feelings, so he ruffled Mingyu’s hair. “I’ll be watching you.” 

Mingyu grinned back, the previously rising tension in the air dissipated between them. “Talk to you afterwards?” 

“Yeah. Go get em.” 

Wonwoo smiled fondly, watching Mingyu run off towards his friends before walking over to the bleachers, sitting down in the first row and observing the practice.

He usually didn’t like coming to practices to watch- although Mingyu begged him every day to, Wonwoo couldn’t bring himself to look at Soonyoung for such an extended amount of time.

It reminded him of days spent sitting on a bench very similar, watching Mingyu and Soonyoung kick a soccer ball around for what felt like hours, smiling as he watched his friends playing and laughing. 

It felt bittersweet, now, to watch Mingyu and Soonyoung do the same from afar, knowing that Soonyoung would never catch his eye with that endearing smile, the short boy’s eyes crinkled up as he grinned.

Choosing not to think about Soonyoung anymore, Wonwoo instead cast his eyes around the stands. Apart from Mingyu’s fan club, there were several other students milling around the stands. Wonwoo caught sight of Soonyoung’s fellow chamber singer friends, Seokmin and Seungkwan. They both waved back in reply to his acknowledging nod. Wonwoo wondered why they were there- Seungkwan hated sports and from what he’d heard about Seokmin the younger boy was too energetic to sit still in the stands for so long. 

Wonwoo chuckled softly at the idea of Seungkwan coming here because he was secretly part of Mingyu’s fan club- although that was extremely unlikely. The round faced boy never had anything but pure annoyance on his face when he looked at Mingyu. Wonwoo couldn’t blame him. Most of the time Seungkwan was glaring at Mingyu because the latter was cheating off him. 

Practice ran for a few hours, Wonwoo sweating just by sitting in the stands under the bold September sun. The team ran drills, then strength training, then split into smaller groups to practice passing strategies. 

By the time five rolled around, the whistle sounded again to signal the end of practice, and Wonwoo caught sight of Mingyu tagging along behind Soonyoung as they retrieved all the spare balls groups had been practicing with. 

Mingyu offered a ball to Soonyoung, his face falling in confusion as the usually cheerful older boy snatched it from his hands, giving him a particularly dirty look as he walked off, instantly happy once he’d rejoined another group of boys.

Wonwoo frowned. His comment to Soonyoung must’ve rubbed on the other, and now Mingyu was getting it. 

Wonwoo swung his bag over his shoulder as he stepped onto the field, crossing to where Mingyu was quietly collecting the small orange cones that they’d used earlier. 

“Hey, champ. How was practice?” 

Mingyu nodded dully, continuing to clean up. 

“Something wrong?” 

“I wish you and Soonyoung hyung would make up,” Mingyu mumbled. “It sucks to live between you two. It has sucked for the last few years. Some days he’s nice and some days he’s pissed and today he was outright horrible to me. Did you say something about me? During tutoring?”

“I…” Wonwoo sighed. “I told him that you missed him.” 

“I miss us,” Mingyu mumbled, looking away from Wonwoo. “I miss the three of us. I miss back then.”

“Well-” Wonwoo bit his lip. He didn’t consider how Mingyu felt, trapped between the two friends. And he knew that Mingyu must’ve suffered too, choosing between them when the incident had happened. And Wonwoo felt slightly guilty that he’d been the one to pull Mingyu to him. He couldn’t say that he’d let Mingyu think and make his own choices. 

Mingyu shrugged, dragging over a bag of equipment and carefully piling the cones inside. “You should go, hyung, it’s getting late.” 

“We can walk together,” Wonwoo offered.

“No, I’ve got to clean up and… stuff,” Mingyu said, in a voice that made it very clear that he did not want to be around the older boy.

“I’m going to keep giving Soonyoung lessons,” Wonwoo said, rather loudly. He wanted to say it because he knew that Mingyu would hold him to it when his own resolve failed.

Mingyu glanced up at him, the previous empty look in his eyes now relighted with a spark of enthusiasm. “You will?” 

Wonwoo shrugged. “I mean, I guess I’d feel pretty lousy if I could’ve saved someone from failing Calculus but my own ego stopped me.” 

“And you’re gonna make up with him?” Mingyu asked, jumping up and nearly spilling the contents of the bag back onto the grass. Hastily zipping the bag, he looked at Wonwoo expectantly. “Will you?” 

Wonwoo shrugged, running a hand through his raven dark hair, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose as they began walking back towards the building. “Maybe.” 

“Maybe’s better than no!” Mingyu said joyfully, and Wonwoo wondered whether perhaps it was worth it to make up to Soonyoung, just to see that smile on Mingyu’s face. Mingyu didn’t just smile like that whenever he wanted. That kind of bright, happy, beaming smile- it rarely made it onto Mingyu’s face nowadays. And it was certainly worth it to see that smile make a comeback.

Worth it, to make things right between all three of them. 

Because as Wonwoo had sat there with nothing on his mind but the Soonyoung Predicament, with nothing to do but watch Soonyoung shun Mingyu all practice long, nothing to do but wonder how it had all gone wrong, he’d realized that someone had to clean up the mess. And he couldn’t ask Mingyu to fix this disaster, nor could he express ect Soonyoung’s hotheadedness to cool down anytime soon. 

So he, negotiation master extraordinaire Jeon Wonwoo, was going to get Kwon Soonyoung to make peace. Without a whim of a plan or even a thought process- those would come later.

The enmity ended now. 

And that, Wonwoo decided, was final.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> wonwoo has made a Decision... how’s that going to backfire on him? ehehe
> 
> is the formatting okay? i may use this indented formatting for paragraphs now that i’m importing off drive. 
> 
> last but not least... did anyone catch the colors of Mingyu’s soccer uniform? i thought rose quartz and serenity would be too obvious, but yes! those are the school colors of Pledis High XD


	9. 7. raindrops and a dark mullet

Jihoon was late.

His parents had been arguing over breakfast again, and his mother had forgotten to check the food on the stove, leading it to be burned, and then Jihoon was held back as she insisted to remake it.

Of course, he was still thirty minutes early, but that meant he had fifteen less minutes to hide away in the library.

Jihoon sighed with relief as he shut the front door behind himself, hearing their voices cut off with the satisfying click of the lock snapping in place.

He took three steps before he realized that he was in trouble.

A fat raindrop splashed onto his arm, and then another on his head, and soon enough it was drizzling in seconds.

Jihoon sighed, pondering his options. He could go back inside to them, and get an umbrella- or just run the five minutes to school.

The rain suddenly stopped halfway through his decision making, and Jihoon glanced up to see a white umbrella shade with blossoms all over it, superimposed over his head. He flinched slightly as he saw the person holding it, a wide-eyed tall boy that Jihoon had never seen in his life.

“Hi!” The boy said in a lilting accent. “I’m Wen Junhui. You?” 

“Lee Jihoon,” Jihoon said, nonplussed. “Um… why are you standing over me with your umbrella?” 

Junhui blinked twice, confused, then retrieved a card from his pocket, staring down at it and mouthing soundlessly for a few seconds before he looked back up at Jihoon, sneaking small glances back at the index card as he haltingly spoke a few sentences.

“I’m new. I come from China. I don’t know much Korean.” Junhui stuffed the card back in his pocket, seemingly proud of himself. He wore an expression of great thought for a few seconds, then, gesticulating more than actual speech- “Today- second day.”

“I see,” Jihoon said, then just nodded because that was probably easier. “Um. Well, this is awkward.”

Junhui beamed at him, clearly having no idea what Jihoon had just said. “Mandarin?”

“Sorry?”

“Mandarin,” Junhui repeated, sounding hopeful.

“No, sorry,” Jihoon said, raising his hands in an X seconds later.

Junhui’s face fell, but then he smiled again, shrugging. “Okay.” He indicated the umbrella. “Together? You… not good. Feeling… sorry?”

“I was wet,” Jihoon said, enunciating the word twice more as he showed Junhui water motions with his hand. 

“Wet,” Junhui repeated, the word sounding a little strange on his lips, but coherent. And then, smiling again, “Thank you!” He pointed to the brick house two doors down from Jihoon’s. “I… live… there.”

Jihoon nodded, still awkward, and pointed forward. “Let’s go. I have to go to the library.”

It felt weird to walk next to a tall person for so long, but Jihoon didn’t dare to say anything. He’d prefer to enter school dry this morning.

They arrived inside the building and Junhui sheathed the umbrella, giving Jihoon another beaming smile. “I… go! Look… around.” Junhui laughed rather embarrassedly, running a hand through his hair. “Again... lost.”

“Yeah,” Jihoon said. “Um, bye.”

Turning his back on the taller boy, Jihoon rushed for the library and, in extension, sanctuary.

•

Junhui quietly wandered into a hallway that he hadn’t seen before, still lightly shaking the rain off his umbrella as he looked around. He was planning to use his mornings to explore the school this first week so he wouldn’t keep getting lost. 

The hallway was long, several rooms lining either side. Students drifted in and out of the rooms, all chattering and laughing happily, enjoying their free time before the first bell.

Junhui peeked into a room to see a pristine kitchen and several burners. A culinary lab, then. The next room was set with easels and paint splatters, and the one across the hall from that had racks of costumes in it.

Ah… so that sign over this hallway-  _ misul-  _ must translate to be fine arts.

The end of the hallway had another one intersecting it at a T, and to the section on the right Junhui could see students holding instruments flitting back and forth between rooms. Those must be the music students.

This side of the hallway, the one to the left, was empty, all the doors closed, but Junhui could hear faint music and a beat emanating from the rooms.

Wondering what was the purpose of these rooms, Junhui carefully walked over to the first door and peeked inside the small window set into the door, his eyes widening with curiosity. 

Several students were inside, wearing loose clothing, dancing with precision and detail, their bodies moving and twining to the beat of the music that Junhui could feel from pressing his face to the door.

One student- a thin boy with a dark mullet that Junhui couldn’t shake the feeling he’d seen before- caught sight of Junhui’s face in the window through the mirrors along the walls, and, surprised at the sight of someone staring at him so intensely, lost his balance momentarily, crashing to the floor and sitting up as his fellow classmates crowded around him, reassuring them that he was alright.

Junhui gasped and turned away, quickly hurrying from the hallway. He didn’t want to make enemies or potential bullies on his second day, despite how guilty he felt about making the boy fall and hoping he was okay. He didn’t know the boy and he didn’t want to make a fool out of himself. 

The bell rang at this moment and every door in the hallway was thrown open, sweaty dancers laughing as they exited the practice rooms, sweeping him out into the larger arts hallway like a tidal wave.

Junhui found himself at the entrance to the arts hallway, staring out at the large foyer of the school and its numerous hallways, and realized he had no idea where his first hour Physics class was, not now that he’d ventured to some corner of the school and hadn’t remembered his path. 

“Hey,” came a panting voice from next to him, and Junhui glanced around to find a boy with bleached-blonde hair smiling at him. Junhui recognized him as one of the dancers in the practice room. 

Luckily, blonde boy didn’t seem to have seen him from earlier, when Junhui had made his friend lose balance. “You lost?” 

“How… know?” Jun said sheepishly. 

“Your eyes are like, bugged out of your head.” The dancer brushed his damp hair back from his forehead. “I’m Soonyoung, by the way. Kwon Soonyoung. Dance. And theater. And… well, I live in this hallway, pretty much.” Soonyoung beamed. “You?” 

Junhui blinked a few times. He had never met someone who talked as fast as him, except the problem here was that Soonyoung- for all that he’d managed to catch was the latter’s name- was speaking a thousand syllables per second in Korean.

“I’m Junhui,” he replied, pointing at the name tag pinned neatly to his shirt. “I dance… and little sing? Small sing.” 

“You’re not from here, are you?” Soonyoung asked. “Accent’s a little off- and well, kinda the whole sentence. Are you Korean-American?”

Junhui shook his head. “China.”

“Ah,” Soonyoung nodded. “That explains it. I know some Chinese people.”

“Here?” Junhui said excitedly.

Soonyoung nodded, smiling. “He’s not too fluent- he grew up mostly here, but I’m pretty sure he could bridge the gap between you and Korea. Anyway, what class are you looking for?”

“Physics,” Junhui replied as they began walking.

Soonyoung nodded slowly. “Class 3A?” 

“Yes.”

“Do you know a Jeon Wonwoo? Pretty sure he’s got first hour Physics.”

“No, sorry,” Junhui said apologetically. “Don’t… know… yet. Second… day.” 

“Oh, yeah. I guess.” Soonyoung brightened again, pointing Junhui into a room. “Just in here.” 

“Thanks,” Junhui said gratefully. 

“Hey- I know it’s probably awkward to be new,” Soonyoung added, stopping Junhui before he walked inside. “Um, do you have anyone to sit with at lunch?” 

Junhui slowly shook his head. “No… shy.” 

“Yeah, I get that,” Soonyoung nodded empathetically. “Do you have fifth hour? Because my friend group’s really nice and I’m sure they’d be cool with you sitting with us.” 

“Yes,” Junhui said, feeling relieved. “Thank you.” 

“Yeah, no problem!” Soonyoung smiled. “When you get to the cafeteria, just go to the very end. We sit at one of the circle tables. If I’m not there yet- there’ll be a few other kids. Minghao- the Chinese guy I told you about- he’s got a mullet and-”

“Know!” Junhui said, pointing at Soonyoung excitedly. “Yesterday! Hallway- replied!” 

“What?” Soonyoung looked bewildered. 

Junhui laughed. “Nothing.” 

“Yeah, so anyway, Minghao’s gonna be there, um… two other guys, Seokmin and Seungkwan. Seungkwan’s hair is a plum color- oh shoot, you probably didn’t learn all the colors in Korean yet…” Soonyoung pointed at his tie, then at his hair. “Like that color. So if you see them, then go over and sit and let them know I invited you. They’re super friendly.”

Junhui nodded, still blinking as he tried to process all the information that had been thrown at him much too quickly. All he got from that was that Minghao was the name of the person who’d replied to him, and Seungkwan had a reddish hair color. He supposed he could figure it out from there.

“Thank you, very much,” Junhui said, rather embarrassed of how stilted his speech sounded as he bowed to Soonyoung.

“Hey, bro, no problem. And don’t-” Soonyoung grasped his shoulders, straightening him. “Don’t bow to me, we’re friends.” 

Junhui smiled. “Friends.” 

Soonyoung checked the time at the nearest clock. “Oh- I should go, my first hour is halfway across the school. See you at lunch!” 

Junhui beamed as he breezed in through the Physics door. 

Maybe this school wasn’t completely horrible. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ok so i’m alive   
> so sorry that i was inactive! i’ve been writing so much lately and tons of inspiration for so many stories got me sidetracked.   
> in celebration of one month of the story haha! here’s an update. more to come soon.   
> again, you sticking around to read this far has me feeling all sorts of happiness! thank you for your time and remember that your comments, kudos, and kind words are part of this story’s success.   
> ily all mwah  
> -mingyuwu


	10. 8. applications and acquaintances

“It’s an 82,” Wonwoo said exasperatedly, sliding a banana milk across the table to the younger boy. “That’s good. Especially for an advanced history class. You’ll do better on the next one.”

Mingyu shrugged, his cheek smushed against his hand, dully staring down at the aforementioned banana milk. “What’d you get, hyung?”

Wonwoo fidgeted, not wanting to tell Mingyu his results. 

“Just tell me,” Mingyu added, sounding miserable. They’d rushed to the history room this morning to check the results from yesterday’s test that would be pinned up on the door with each student’s ID number next to their score.

“Uh… a 97. But- but I did get some wrong, okay, she just gave me a little extra credit because I wrote more information on the Unified Silla period.” Wonwoo leaned closer. “Mingyu, an 82 isn’t a bad score. I promise.”

“It’s a B. My grandma is going to kill me.”

Wonwoo sipped on his own banana milk, knowing Mingyu would explain without his prompting anyway.

“She said that if I don’t end the semester with overall A’s I can’t do the spring soccer season,” Mingyu said dejectedly. “And honestly, history and math are about to drop off that perfect A range.”

Wonwoo chuckled. “Sounds like something she’d say. And don’t worry. I’ll help you.”

“You’ll be busy tutoring Soonyoung hyung.” 

“Not all the time.”

Mingyu sighed, rubbing at his eyes. “Why is everything so hard?”

Wonwoo arched an eyebrow. This kind of profound dialogue rarely escaped the younger’s lips. “Are you having a poetic episode or what?”

“I’m being nagged about college all the time at home,” Mingyu grumbled, his eyes still pressed against the heel of his palms. “I love  _ halmeoni _ with everything, that’s obviously why I’m still living with her, and I know she’s all ‘think about the future’ but honestly I don’t know what I want to do in college or later in life. How am I supposed to have everything figured out?”

“You have time,” Wonwoo soothed. “She’s just being- well, how she is. She can’t help but worry, you know. My parents are the same. And you’re only a sophomore, you have at least one more year to think about it.”

“What’re you going to do in college, hyung?” Mingyu perked up, watching him with interest.

“Medicine. You know how much I want to be a doctor. I’ve already started my applications.” 

“I wish it was so easy for me,” Mingyu sighed, dully resting his face in his hands. “I’m not good enough at anything to make it a  _ career _ .”

“Maybe you could do medicine too,” Wonwoo joked. “You love animals. You could do veterinary.”

Mingyu shrugged, stirring a straw around in the tiny banana milk container as Seungcheol and Jeonghan sat down next to them, the couple busy chatting about their plans later this weekend.

Wonwoo gave them a smile. The two oldest were the only pair of the original big group that still maintained friendships with both sides. 

The ‘big group’- the cluster of friends that had been cemented together when Wonwoo was halfway through middle school, yet broken into tiny cliques by the time he left it. Jeonghan, Seungcheol- the now-seniors; Wonwoo, Soonyoung- currently juniors; Seokmin and Mingyu, their sophomore friends; Seungkwan and year-transfer Chan, now freshmen. Yes, the eight of them. 

When the Split had happened, their cordial friend circle had disintegrated into what felt like two parallel lines, people falling on either side and sticking there. Jeonghan and Seungcheol were the only bridge between the lines- although even they had preferences.

Jeonghan being in chamber singers, he remained extremely close with Soonyoung and their friends Seokmin and Seungkwan from the theater department. Chan had been too young to quite understand the Split well when it had happened- not having skipped grades at that time, he was a still few years beneath them at school and missed much of the drama- and had therefore rushed after his musical friends. 

The theater clique had another friend who’d been a bit removed from the circle anyway, Xu Minghao- although not being distant from them, Minghao had barely gotten to know a few of them by the time that the Split happened. He was still friendly with everyone, though, but was a reserved and calm type by nature. He was a Chinese boy that had moved to Korea when Wonwoo was in seventh grade, at the same time wide eyed Mingyu had come to Seoul from the tiny town of Anyang to live with his feeble lonely grandmother.

That was when Wonwoo and Soonyoung had immediately took Mingyu under their wing, back in Wonwoo’s seventh grade when they were still friends and everything was fine. Soonyoung was the one who’d taught Mingyu how to play soccer, and Wonwoo was the one who’d taught Mingyu the faster-paced dynamics of maths and literature classes in a city school. Seungcheol had always been attached and extremely fond of Mingyu, most likely why he preferred their presence.

And everything had been good and perfect until the Split, and then everything had gone horribly wrong.

Wonwoo drew himself out of his thoughts. 

“...got such big eyes!” Jeonghan gushed.

“Who?” Mingyu asked, intrigued.

Seungcheol turned to face them. “This new kid from America, apparently. His name is Hong Jisoo and he’s a senior, Hansol was telling Jeonghan about him before lunch,” Seungcheol explained, naming a boy from Mingyu’s soccer team.

“Is he cute?” Wonwoo asked mildly.

“You’re asking two taken people that. Ask Mingyu.”

“I haven’t seen him, though,” Mingyu replied. “Anyways, I already know my type and I don’t think an American party boy will make the cut.”

“What is your type, Gyu?” Jeonghan teased. “We never hear about this person.”

“Yeah, you’re so closed off about it,” Wonwoo added. “And you’re never closed off, about anything.”

Mingyu flushed, turning to scan the cafeteria instead of looking at his hyungs. “None of your business.”

”Tell us at least one thing!” 

“Boy or girl?” 

“Anything I say will just lead to further begging for hints, so I’ll reserve my silence,” Mingyu stated.

“Speaking of new students,” Seungcheol said. “I get informed about transfer students and all that, being class president- and there’s this foreign exchange from China, Wen Junhui.”

“Mm, I did hear about him in first hour with Soonyoung,” Jeonghan nodded. “Apparently Soonie helped him find his class.”

“That’s the same guy that was screaming ‘Mandarin’ at Mingyu and I yesterday,” Wonwoo remarked. 

“I was thinking maybe we could get him to make friends with Minghao?” Seungcheol suggested. “Mingyu, Jeonghan, you guys still talk to Hao, right? Do you think that we could get Junhui close with him? It might make him feel more comfortable to have a friend with the same customs and background.”

“No need for that, hyung,” Mingyu replied, still gazing across the cafeteria. “Think Junhui’s already found him.”

They followed his gaze and Wonwoo felt inadvertently thankful that Junhui had found someone else to run his mouth at. He did, however, feel a little sympathy at the sight of Minghao’s overwhelmed expression. Well, it couldn’t be helped. Junhui was not his problem anymore.

•

Junhui entered the cafeteria, his bright eyes scanning the tables for the plum-colored boy that Soonyoung had been rapidly describing.

Eyes landing on someone that fit the description, Junhui walked across the cafeteria confidently, soon finding himself at a table with two boys sitting at it. One had a long face and sharp nose, yet his eyes crinkled into half moons when he beamed at Junhui. The other’s face was the opposite, he had wide eyes and a round face that focused on Junhui with curiosity and slight confusion. 

Junhui squinted at their tags and confirmed that these were indeed Lee Seokmin and Boo Seungkwan, after a few awkward moments of staring as he comprehended the still unfamiliar Korean script.

“Can we help you?” Seungkwan asked, probably unsure as to why a complete stranger was looking at him helplessly. 

“Um… Soonyoung,” Junhui said, not sure how to explain.

“It’s alright, Boo, Soonyoung already told me about him,” Seokmin said, waving Seungkwan back into his seat and gesturing Junhui to sit down. “Sit, sit, make yourself comfortable. I saw Soonyoung in first hour, and he told me to expect you.”

Junhui felt a crashing sense of relief as he lowered himself into his seat, now met with Seungkwan’s friendly grin.

“Who’s this?” came a lilting, delicate voice, and Junhui felt a strange sense of deja vu as he pivoted in his seat to meet the sharply lidded gaze of the mulleted boy sitting down on his right. The boy smelled like lavender and clean sheets, his dark hair shining under the natural light, long handsome face drawing Jun’s attention. 

Somehow, Junhui knew this was the same boy from yesterday morning in the hallway, and the same boy from this morning in the practice room, and that this boy was also the Xu Minghao that Soonyoung had mentioned. 

“You!” Junhui yelled, and the boy flinched, looking bewildered. Junhui sighed and switched to Mandarin, immensely grateful that he could now roll syllables off his tongue at the speed he was used to. “Yesterday in the hallway, were you the one who answered me?”

Minghao looked beyond confused, but nodded slowly. “Were you the one who was yelling for help? Because if so, yes,” he replied in a dialect of Mandarin that Junhui couldn’t place. 

Junhui nearly began crying as he heard his native language fluidly leave Minghao’s pretty lips. Thank god. Someone here could understand him. 

“Yes, it was me!” Junhui stared at Minghao with relief. “You speak fluently!”

“Of course I do, I lived in China until I was twelve,” Minghao explained, and this time Junhui had recovered from the shock enough to register how beautiful Minghao’s voice was. “I even struggle with Korean sometimes, I still stumble over some words. But I’ll help you out, of course. I can’t imagine how lost you’ve been,” Minghao said genuinely, his voice warm and sweet and soft.

Junhui merely nodded, taking in every detail of the other’s face in a way that he hoped didn’t look too creepy. He couldn’t help it. Minghao was salvation- and a handsome salvation at that.

”Were you the person watching us dance this morning?” Minghao asked. 

“Yeah, um- sorry about that. You dance really well.” Junhui said, feeling his cheeks burning. Oh god, _why_. 

To his surprise, Minghao laughed. “What do you mean, dance well. You watched me fall on my ass like a loser.” 

“It was good before that,” Junhui said hurriedly. 

“So you were watching for some time, huh?” Minghao grinned, his eyes sparkling with mirth.

“I see we’ve all found each other!” came a jarringly Korean sentence, breaking into the conversation, and Junhui flicked his gaze up to find the final seat at the table taken up, Soonyoung’s blonde hair bouncing slightly as he sat down. “Welcome to the fun table, Junnie!” 

Junhui blinked. “Junhui,” he enunciated to Soonyoung. “Similar… not Junnie. Hui.” 

Minghao gently elbowed him. “Soonyoung likes to make nicknames,” the other explained, Mandarin flowing off his lips like warm honey from a beehive. “If it bothers you, I’ll tell him to stop.” 

“Oh,” Junhui realized. “No, that’s alright. I didn’t know.” 

Minghao translated this to the others rapidly in Korean, earning a chorus of ooing.

“You guys can’t talk in Mandarin!” Seungkwan whined. “It feels like a secret language!” 

Minghao chuckled, then switched to Korean. “You try two days in school in China. You’ll be begging for a translator!” 

Gods, his voice sounded adorably cute in Korean too, and Jun had only understood about ten percent of what he’d said. 

Cute? 

Junhui blinked and began to unpack his lunch as Soonyoung started lecturing Seungkwan across the table to eat, saying something about how he had to rush off to dance in a few minutes and wouldn’t be able to babysit him, earning a playful bickering back from Seungkwan, who Junhui assumed was younger.

Throughout the meal, Minghao whispered to him little things here and there, explanations for Seokmin’s excited behavior, filling him in on small language puns that Junhui couldn’t understand, explaining tips on how to find his classes. Junhui couldn’t describe the feeling that overcame him every time Minghao leaned close to him to whisper in his ear.

It felt a little like coming home. 

Junhui watched them all as if through a lens from far away, wondering if he could make a home for himself here.

Minghao laughed, his fluffy bangs falling in his eyes as he giggled, the sound light and sweet and free. 

Junhui couldn’t stop himself from smiling as he pondered over his last thought.

Perhaps he could find home here, so far away from his roots yet unbelievably close at the same time. 

Perhaps he’d already found it. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> aaa a a a a a  
> so here’s the junhao content you all were probably waiting for!!  
> jeongshua?? perhaps?? our reliable jeongcheol are about to go through what we’d call a rough patch. 
> 
> this chapter was pretty background-heavy! i’d advise to go back and reread all of wonwoo’s memories to prevent later confusion. (although if you’re reading svt ff then you’re probably already good at remembering thirteen backstories...) 
> 
> comment! even if it’s a hi i promise i’ll say hi back heehee


	11. 9. a second appointment and poorly concealed affection

“So, did you practice at all?” Wonwoo asked, pulling out his books. 

It was Thursday and Soonyoung was sitting next to him again at the table at the back of the library. It was warm today, or perhaps that was just the comforting weight of Mingyu’s sweater surrounding Wonwoo’s slimmer body. The younger boy had insisted on shoving it over Wonwoo’s head when he’d heard there was tutoring again today, because “it’s like a long hug from me!”

Soonyoung rolled his eyes. “No way. I was too busy with theater. And I’m way too stupid to figure out much on my own.”

Wonwoo nodded dully. “Okay.” He opened his notebook. “Okay. Let’s go over the lesson from today in class, seeing as you’ve got math next hour, I can preview the content for you.”

“Perfect,” Soonyoung said, reclining in his seat and watching Wonwoo flip through his book with an air of carelessness.

It was quiet for a few seconds as Wonwoo stared down at a parabola function, knowing full well he’d found the right page already. But there was something to say. Not something he prepared, but he just felt like something had to be said. He had to talk to Soonyoung, he had to say something, anything-

“Can I write with a pen?”  
Wonwoo blinked, looking over at Soonyoung, who was nibbling on the tip of a bright orange gel pen.

“Huh? Um… yeah, I guess.”

“Cool.” Soonyoung broke their eye contact to toss his notebook onto the table, idly flipping to a random blank page. Wonwoo winced at the level of organization that seemed to only have disintegrated further since the Split.

To make matters worse, a short figure slinked out from around the bookshelves again, calmly sitting down opposite Soonyoung and opening the encyclopedia he’d heaved onto the table. 

“Seriously?” Wonwoo exploded, and Jihoon glanced up at him. 

“Oh. It’s the bickering couple again,” the tiny boy said, and then went back to his book.

“We’re not-” Soonyoung was about to lunge across the table, but Wonwoo stopped him, both of them glaring daggers at the boy who wasn’t even looking at them anymore.

“I’m not bothering either of you. Just keep on bickering or flirting or tutoring, whatever,” Jihoon said unconcernedly, flipping a page.

Wonwoo took a deep breath and met Soonyoung’s irritated gaze.

“So,” Wonwoo said, clearing his throat. “Let’s get started. I think that the best way to teach today’s material is by simulating a-”

“Soonyoung!” 

Wonwoo’s head snapped up as he saw a tall figure coming their way. As the boy came closer, Wonwoo sighed, a faint memory of a singular word echoing in his mind.

Mandarin. 

Junhui beamed as he neared the table, and to Wonwoo’s surprise Soonyoung beamed back. 

“What is he doing here?” Wonwoo muttered to Soonyoung as Junhui sat down next to Jihoon, who was staring at the cheerful Chinese boy.

“He doesn’t have anywhere to go at lunch because he hasn’t made too many friends yet, plus he’s still gonna be awkward around my friends, so I had him come along,” Soonyoung said as if it was the simplest thing ever. 

Junhui waved at Wonwoo. “I found Mandarin!” 

“I’m Korean,” Wonwoo said, offended.

“He met Minghao,” Soonyoung translated. “Yesterday at lunch. They bonded like some chemical equation, I suppose. Do you know know Junhui?” 

“Yeah, he was screaming Mandarin at me three days ago in the hall.” Wonwoo said.

“Ouch. Yeah, the poor guy’s pretty lost.” 

“Hello,” Junhui chirped, having turned to the boy next to him, and Jihoon flashed him a tight smile in reply.

“Hey. Forgot to thank you for the umbrella.” Jihoon said brusquely.

Junhui’s face betrayed his confusion, clearly not knowing a single word of that sentence.

Jihoon sighed. “I was wet. Rain. Do you remember? Thank you for walking with me.” 

“Ah!” Junhui clapped excitedly. “No… no issue.” 

“You’re welcome.” Soonyoung corrected.

Junhui blushed. “Sorry.” 

“Can we do our lesson?” Wonwoo said, thoroughly irritated that Soonyoung had chosen to bring this overexcited person in to their tutoring session when he already had to deal with Jihoon’s snarkiness. 

“Yeah, sorry,” Soonyoung said, smirking like a devil nevertheless. “Let’s get started, then.”

Wonwoo rubbed at his eyes. It was going to be a long hour.

•

“...barely taught me anything, just glowered the whole time at Junnie, the poor thing,” Soonyoung complained, and Seokmin nudged him, both letting out a laugh. 

“You should go,” Seokmin said, as they crossed the field to sit in the bleachers. “Unless substitutes aren’t practicing today?” 

“We are,” Soonyoung groaned. “I just don’t feel like it, ugh…” he waved them goodbye and began to walk back across the field to the entrance, filtering out towards the locker rooms. 

“Boo, you’ve been quiet. What’s on your mind?” Seokmin prodded as they sat down, just as the whistle blew to signal the start of practice. 

“Nothing.” 

“Alright.” Seokmin followed his gaze down to the field. “Or rather, who’s on your mind?” 

“Nobody. Hyung, shut up.” Seungkwan glared down at the field, averting his eyes from the handsome defensive midfielder. 

“What’s going on with you and Kim?” 

“Which Kim? There’s fifty hundred in this school.” Seungkwan refused to look over at Seokmin.

“You know exactly which Kim, Boo.” 

Mingyu punted the ball halfway across the field, turning away with confidence and running a hand through his dark hair, his arm flexing as he did so. 

Seungkwan looked away too late. 

Seokmin’s jaw dropped. “No way!”

“What?” 

“You really like _him_?”

“What? No!” Seungkwan said, feeling his face flame with embarrassment. “Mingyu’s utterly disgusting, I told you. He ruins everything. Stupid, useless-”

“You _do_ like him!” 

“I don’t!” Seungkwan sprung up, and Seokmin grabbed the end of his jacket, forcing him back down.

“Alright, diva, we get it. I won’t tell Soonyoung how _much you love Mingyu_ -”

“Shut up!” Seungkwan said loudly, and a few girls sitting several rows beneath them in the scatters of students in the bleachers glanced over. “Just- be quiet, okay!” 

“I can’t believe it!” Seokmin gawked at Mingyu. “I thought you hated him, but- you like him!”

“I do not!” Seungkwan glared angrily down at the field. “He’s so annoying. All he does is talk about his stupid soccer team and his stupid games and his stupid-”

“Handsome face! Handsome face that Seungkwannie _loves_ ~” Seokmin cooed, drawing out the last word in a way that was reminiscent of elementary school playground banter. “I knew it! I knew it for so long, you always went quiet when we talked about him, you always overdid your hate for him-”

“Could you be any louder?” Seungkwan snapped. “I’m sure some people in the Arctic Circle didn’t hear you.”

Seokmin flapped his hands around in a self-forgiving gesture. “Whatever! How long?”   
Seungkwan gulped. “I mean… just a while…”

“How freaking long!”

“Since the first day of school, okay!” Seungkwan sighed, running a hand through his hair. “It’s like… I wasn’t thinking anybody would sit next to me in Calculus, seeing as I’m a freshman and it’s pretty obvious… but then he came in with Wonwoo hyung and they were both laughing about something…” Seungkwan sighed. “His laugh, Seokmin hyung. I was already _gone_ . How can someone so-” Seungkwan stretched his arms up. “Tall and strong have a laugh like-” he pinched his fingers together- “like a _baby_? Like a small child?” 

“Yeah, we get it, his laugh,” Seokmin said impatiently. “Get moving.”

“You’re the one who told me to talk, so let me talk,” Seungkwan said irritably. “Anyways, they sat down together. But then I think Wonwoo hyung saw me sitting alone and told Mingyu to go sit with me. And at first Mingyu was whining about it- well I heard because they weren’t sitting so far away- that he wanted to sit with Wonwoo hyung and not me, and I felt really stupid, but then Wonwoo made him and after that Hyunjin sat down next to Wonwoo so then Mingyu sat with me and we’ve been sitting next to each other for the last month.” Seungkwan elaborated with, “The first day he was really quiet because I guess he was upset that he wasn’t sitting with Wonwoo hyung but every day after that he was talking to me all the time. And cheating off me, too, I guess.”

Seokmin laughed at the last part. “So… you’re like… completely into him?”   
Seungkwan let his chin rest on his hand, watching Mingyu’s handsome figure run across the field beneath them. “He’s… he’s beyond handsome. But he’s also beyond annoying. I don’t know. I think it’s just a crush. I mean, we were friends before too, right? Before Wonwoo hyung and Soonyoung hyung fought. When we were all in the big group. But even then, I was so shy… I never really talked to him, I never really talked to anyone then anyway. But I don’t remember liking him back then, probably because I was a sixth grader. So maybe it’s just a high school phase.” Seungkwan chuckled. “I hope it’s a phase. Falling in love with Kim Mingyu… it’s a waste of time, isn’t it?” 

“What? Why?” 

Seungkwan laughed, and it was bitter but longing. “Isn’t it obvious?”

Down on the field, half the team exploded in cheering- they’d split in two and were playing a mock game. 

Most of the teammates ran for each other, but Mingyu was the only one to turn to the stands, beaming and jumping up and down as he waved towards a lone figure wearing a sweater much too large for the individual’s body, despite the late summer heat.

Seokmin and Seungkwan followed Mingyu’s line of sight to Wonwoo’s slim body occupying a tiny space on the fifth bleacher row, waving wearily back towards Mingyu, a fond smile on his face. 

“There’s no point in looking at Mingyu as if he’s your world when he already has those eyes for someone else,” Seungkwan finished quietly.

Mingyu’s happy laugh, standing out from his teammates’, faintly echoed up to them, and this time Seungkwan didn’t smile.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> aaand cue gyuboo angst! the story arcs we’re taking...  
> this chapter is intended to be more of a filler/ understanding character dynamics! longer contents coming soon ehehe  
> thanks for reading!  
> pwease leave a kudos or just a comment saying hi! your interactions are my motivation!  
> ily all <3


	12. 10. friday afternoons and strange detours

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> superrrrr long chapter today AND tomorrow... are you ready for it?

“Can’t believe it’s already Friday!” Mingyu sang, shutting his locker airily and then cursing as he tried opening it again, having wedged the cover of a book between the door and the frame in his haste to escape the complete prison of Pledis High on such a beautiful free afternoon. 

Wonwoo chuckled, leaning against the locker wall and watching the younger struggle to open his locker. “I know there’s no practice today, but you’re usually not so excited to go home.”

“I’m not going home,” Mingyu explained. “Joon hyung is coming home from college! Seungcheol hyung is driving me to the airport to go and pick him up.” 

“Really?” Wonwoo furrowed his eyebrows. “Why’s he visiting? There isn’t even any holiday.”

“He’s just coming for the weekend. Then back to Stanford.” Mingyu succeeded in shoving the book far back enough in his locker, quickly slamming the locker shut moments later and pressing it to the frame for a few seconds before letting go. “Come on.” 

Wonwoo trailed slightly behind Mingyu as they made their way opposite to the usual path they took each afternoon, today walking to the front of the school to get to the parking lots. 

“Aren’t you excited, though?” Wonwoo prodded him. “You know. You rarely see him.” 

“Oh yes, a lovely weekend of _halmeoni_ praising him twenty four seven and nagging me about why I can’t be more like him,” Mingyu said rather bitterly. “I’m sorry that _I_ won’t get a near-perfect CSAT score. You should’ve seen my PCSAT results, and that’s just the practice exam. I’m dreading taking the real thing. Not even because of the test itself- I just don’t want to deal with the verbal beating I’ll get for the results.” 

Wonwoo made a face. “At least you have two more years to study. I’ve got to take it in a year and I don’t even think I’m ready.”

Mingyu scoffed. “Yeah. Right. You’re class topper, hyung. You’ll be fine.” 

They stepped out of the doors with the tide of the crowd, both boys squinting against the warm sunlight as they crossed the sidewalk into the parking lot. 

“Anyways, don’t give Namjoon hyung a hard time,” Wonwoo chided. “Perfect scholar as he is, he’s still your helpless older brother.” 

“Helpless?” Mingyu laughed. “Have you seen his SNS? Every girl at Stanford is head over heels for him!” 

“Still helpless. Good with the girls he may be. Good in the kitchen he is not.” Wonwoo stifled a laugh, remembering the one time the older boy had tried to cook for them during a sleepover. 

“And that’s the one thing I still have over him, so I’m not teaching him how to cook _anything_ ,” Mingyu said pridefully, waving across the parking lot to where Seungcheol was leaning against his white Jaguar convertible, chatting with Jeonghan and another boy. 

Wonwoo desisted from persuading Mingyu to back off from his agenda, recognizing that the younger boy was more determined on secretly pleasing his grandmother than maintaining a single superiority over his flawless brother. Wonwoo felt rather guilty, too, knowing that he was probably the same type of ‘perfect older brother’ figure for his own younger sibling, Jeongguk. 

Seungcheol turned to them as they neared, smiling and gesturing them over. “Guys! Come meet Jisoo,” he called, his voice carrying across the parking lot already bustling with students. 

“Who’s that?” Wonwoo mumbled to Mingyu as they got closer. 

“Isn’t it the doe-eyed kid hyung was talking about?” Mingyu whispered back, quickening his pace. “From America.” 

They arrived to find Jeonghan laughing hysterically at something the aforementioned ‘doe-eyed kid’ had said, Seungcheol also grinning. 

The newcomer turned, smiling brightly at them. “Hi! I’m Joshua- I mean, Jisoo.” 

Wonwoo nearly facepalmed when Mingyu beamed back at the new boy, already crushing him in a hug. Fondly exasperated of Mingyu’s habit of throwing himself at people without their permission or knowledge of their boundaries, he smiled and gently tugged the younger off of Jisoo (Joshua?). “Sorry about Mingyu. You’ll get used to it.” 

Mingyu stuck his tongue out at Wonwoo, already wrapped around Jeonghan’s arm instead, swaying the leaner older boy back and forth with an air of tired clinginess. 

“Oh, it’s okay,” Jisoo said, his accent much like Junhui’s: slightly more comfortable than the Chinese boy, but still rather unsure and speaking quickly to make up for pronunciation errors. “We’re pretty chill in America about that sort of thing.” 

“Anyways, we were just persuading Jisoo to join the student board,” Seungcheol said. “Wonwoo, isn’t student government a wonderful opportunity?”

Wonwoo gave the older boy a deadpan look. “If it was so great, I wouldn’t have dropped out.” 

Seungcheol gasped in mock outrage, lightly hitting Wonwoo’s shoulder with a whine. “I keep telling you to come back.”

“All we did was organize dances, hyung, there was no governing happening anywhere.”

“You just wanted to join the medical professionals club,” Mingyu said with a tone of dramatic exposé, and Wonwoo rolled his eyes as Jeonghan began taunting him with teases of ‘Wonwoo quitter! Wonwoo quitter!’

“Sorry about them,” Wonwoo reiterated, earning an awkward laugh from Jisoo. “I promise, you’ll get used to them. Maybe.” 

Jisoo laughed. “I’m sure I will.”

“Just come to one session, Jisoo,” Jeonghan started up again. “I’m vice president and Seungcheol’s president, well- Cheollie won’t be here today, because he’s got to get Mingyu’s brother from the airport, so it’ll just be the two of us and the other kids. Come on, Shua! I promise it’s fun, come on, please please please please-” 

“I… okay…” 

“We should get going,” Seungcheol said, checking the time on his phone. “Get in, puppy.” 

“Hyung,” Mingyu grumbled, opening the back door of the open-top convertible and climbing inside. “I told you not to call me that anymore. I’m not five.”

“You can say that when you get your driving license, puppy.” Seungcheol pecked Jeonghan’s forehead. “Manage the government kids for me. You got the meeting agendas right?” 

“I got it all covered, love,” Jeonghan assured him. “But you’re not leaving me with just one kiss, right?” 

Seungcheol laughed as Jeonghan covered the latter’s lips with his. Jisoo was watching them awkwardly. Wonwoo felt rather sympathetic for the poor boy. 

“Can we get going? I’m already the failure child, I don’t need to be late to pick up the prodigy!” Mingyu called. 

“Yes, yes, coming,” Seungcheol said, breaking away from Jeonghan and sliding into the driver’s seat of the Jaguar. “See you all tomorrow!” 

“Cheol, come to dinner tonight! My mom’s making your favorite,” Jeonghan whined.

“Alright then, see everyone excepting Jeonghan tomorrow,” Seungcheol chuckled. “Nine PM good for your mom?” 

“Seven. We can go to the park after,” Jeonghan said, pouting at his boyfriend.

“Perfect. See you then, baby.” 

Wonwoo waved at Mingyu as the car pulled out of the slot, then turned to Jeonghan and Jisoo. “So-”

“Gotta go! Government things,” Jeonghan called, smirking smugly at Wonwoo as he began dragging Jisoo back across the parking lot to the school.

Wonwoo sighed, turning back around and nearly falling over.

“Hey,” Soonyoung said casually, popping his bubble gum. 

Wonwoo glanced around. There were cars pulling out and students milling everywhere. No wonder he hadn’t managed to see Soonyoung walking over. “What?” 

“Wow. No hello?” Soonyoung rolled his eyes. “I worked so hard to find you, just because I wanted to tell you something.” 

“Yes? What is it?” Wonwoo felt his heart start palpitating slightly. 

“I got an 80 on today’s Calculus test.” 

“What?” Wonwoo grinned. “That’s pretty cool. Compared to the 42.” 

“Yeah. I thought you’d want to hear something nice before your weekend.” Soonyoung popped his gum again. “So… yeah. I’ll get going now.” 

“Wait,” Wonwoo blurted out. “Wanna walk together?” 

Soonyoung turned to look at him incredulously. “What?” 

“Walk home together.” 

Soonyoung glanced around, as if looking for help or an acceptable answer. “I mean… I guess? Don’t you walk with Mingyu?” 

“Seungcheol’s taking him to the airport to pick up his brother.” 

“Oh,” Soonyoung nodded slowly. “It’s been a while since I’ve seen Namjoon hyung. Where’s he studying?” 

“He’s a sophomore at Stanford in California,” Wonwoo replied as they started walking. “He got in like… right after… you know.” 

“Oh.” 

Awkward silence reigned.

“So, what’ve you been up to lately?” Wonwoo asked, in an attempt to regulate conversation. 

“Theater stuff,” Soonyoung said, relaxing slightly. “The results for the musical are coming out soon.” 

“Oh, cool. Do you think you’ll make the lead?” Wonwoo was cringing at the polite, surface level conversation. 

Soonyoung shrugged. “Had a massive voice crack halfway through the audition, so I don’t think so. But I’m pretty sure Seokmin is getting the lead. I think supporting role is good too, I guess.”

“Still pretty cool.” 

“Yeah.” Soonyoung kicked at a pebble as they crossed the campus to the back of the school, walking through the grassy fields next to the sports stadium behind the school.

Past the stadium was the pretty neighborhood that the three of them used to share- Wonwoo, Mingyu, and Soonyoung. A collection of winding streets, sandwiched between the town and middle school and on the other side, the campus of the high school. 

They used to live on adjacent streets, and Wonwoo had vivid memories of walking to and from middle school on the other side of the neighborhood with the pair each day. 

“So… you moved out of our neighborhood? I see you walking Mingyu home lots.” 

“Yeah, we moved. Not far, though, just the community behind the park, after dad got a promotion.” Wonwoo braced his hands on his backpack straps, dragging his palms up and down. “But yeah, I gotta walk him home every day or he’ll wind up running off somewhere.” 

They shared a laugh about that. Wonwoo felt a strange sense of nostalgia. 

“What about Junhui, the new guy?” Wonwoo asked. “He lives here?” 

“Yeah, I think so. His dad drives a Mercedes, and the sound that thing makes each day revving up from a street over…” Soonyoung chuckled. 

As if summoned from hell, Wonwoo heard a car thrumming down the street, and turned to see Junhui driving a sleek gray Mercedes with- Jihoon in the passenger seat?

Wonwoo was convinced he was losing it.

The car stopped next to where they were standing on the sidewalk, and Junhui rolled down Jihoon’s window, waving at them from the driver’s seat. 

“You?” Wonwoo said blankly, staring at Jihoon. 

“Yeah, the quiet psych kid moved in when you moved out,” Soonyoung explained. “Saw him and Junhui walking home the other day. Junhui lives in that red-brick house that the old lady with the cats used to be in.” 

“Mrs. Chang is gone?”  
“Yeah, dummy. She passed away a year ago, acute myocarditis.” 

Wonwoo shook his head in disbelief, staring at Jihoon. “He lives in my house?” Wonwoo spluttered. “And I didn’t know this whole time?”

“It’s not _your_ house anymore. Plus, you and Mingyu always take the long route to his house. You never walk by yours, so of course you didn’t see Jihoon.” Soonyoung pointed out. 

“I walk the long route to Mingyu’s house because I can cross through his backyard into the park and then into my community. And _you_ walk by my old house?” Wonwoo said, an eyebrow raised.

“I’d rather get home quickly,” Soonyoung shot back. 

“You live on the next street over-”

“Get in!” Junhui yelled from his car.

“Absolutely not,” Wonwoo said, scandalized, but Soonyoung was already wandering over, looking curious.

“What’re you two doing together?” Soonyoung asked. Wonwoo reluctantly moved a little closer to listen. 

Jihoon grimaced, and then, talking very fast in a clear effort to evade Junhui’s understanding, “He keeps nagging me to let him drive me home since we live two doors apart, plus he wants to practice to get his license here-”

“He doesn’t have his license?!” Wonwoo exclaimed. 

“He has his Chinese one, apparently, and he’s under one-month renewal protection on account of him just moving,” Jihoon explained. 

“So he’s driving to and from the half mile to school each day to practice?” Wonwoo chuckled.

Jihoon’s grimace only grew. “Not today. Today, we’re going home for me drop off my things and the demon spawn is dragging me out to town for _an outing_.” Jihoon shrugged. “At least, I think that’s what he said. Hard to tell with the accent.” 

“An outing? With food?” Soonyoung said, looking intrigued. 

Junhui, having recognized half the sentence, put his thumbs up. 

“Count me in!” Soonyoung cheered, crossing around to the right back door and opening it. “Won, come on?”  
Wonwoo blinked, firstly at the unfamiliarity of the nickname, secondly at the way Soonyoung’s face lit up with his smile. 

Soonyoung’s bipolarity was giving him emotional whiplash, and Wonwoo was frustrated with it. One day the other acted like he hated him, and the next he was treating their friendship like nothing had ever happened. 

“I’ve got to study,” Wonwoo excused himself. 

“You’ve studied enough,” Soonyoung chided, leaning against the open car door. “Come on! It’s a Friday!” 

Wonwoo hesitated. 

“Consider it as a repayment for me getting 80 on the test,” Soonyoung pressed.

Wonwoo rolled his eyes. “You getting 80 is _my_ repayment, brat.”

“Coming?!” Junhui demanded, accidentally pressing the horn of the car in his excitement. 

“Fine,” Wonwoo sighed, relenting, and opened the left door, sliding inside. “But if you get pulled over for illegal registration, _I’m_ gonna be the confused foreigner. They won’t hear a peep from me.” 

Junhui cackled as he shoved the gearshift back into drive. 

“Buckle up,” Wonwoo mumbled to Soonyoung, earning a chuckle from the other as the Mercedes sped down the street. 

What a ride he was in for. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i love your comments guys 🥺
> 
> anyways here we go!! forced social interaction of the quartet... oh dear.  
> mingyu has that second-favorite child complex... did i project myself a little? oop.  
> anyways pls send prayers to wonwoo. i hope he’s okay with junhui’s chinese style driving.  
> y’all can already tell i’m abt to screw jeongcheol over right? hehe
> 
> anyways thanks for reading!! super long chapter today to thank you guys for being amazing. tomorrow we’re gonna find out what happened at the airport, plus jeongshua ft government students. yikes.  
> namjoon and jeongguk cameo!! armycarats anywhere? 
> 
> don’t be a silent reader! even if it’s just a kudos.  
> tell someone you love them today! i love all of you.  
> -much love, mingyuwu.


	13. 11. second-best complexes and meeting agendas

“I don’t see him,” Seungcheol commented, craning his head over the crowds of people waiting at the arrivals terminal.

“Don’t bother, he stands out like a utility pole,” Mingyu grumbled. “You’ll see him when he gets here.”

Seungcheol gently clapped the younger boy’s shoulder. “Cheer up. You’re still our favorite.” 

“It’s not even that. It’s just hell at home whenever he’s visiting,” Mingyu sighed. “It’s always Namjoon-ah this or Namjoon-ah that.” He folded his arms, angrily staring out over the terminal. “I can’t even resent him for it, because he’s too nice. And of course I love him. He’s my brother. But I wish I could be like that. Like, good at more than one thing. I’m not even good at one thing in particular.” 

“Jack of all trades, then.” 

“Yeah.” Mingyu groaned. “Oh no, I see him.” 

Seungcheol laughed, standing on his tiptoes again and waving wildly off at the familiar figure making his way down the terminal. “Did he get _taller_?” 

“Probably. But I did too, so.”

Namjoon made his way over, weaving through people as he dragged his black leather suitcase behind himself, a wide dimpled smile on his face that made passing girls stop and stare after him. 

“Mingyu-ah!” Namjoon enveloped his brother in a tight hug, ruffling the younger boy’s hair. “You grew up so much!”

“Hyung, you saw me two months ago,” Mingyu said exasperatedly, but he was smiling too as he hugged his brother back. “I think we’re the same height now!” 

“You’ll grow taller than me, I’m sure of it,” Namjoon assured him, wrapping an arm around Seungcheol in greeting as well. “Let’s go home. I can’t wait to see _halmeoni_.”

“You have your passport, right hyung?” 

“Mingyu, it was one time!” 

Seungcheol stifled his laughter, leading the way out of the terminal. 

•

Joshua awkwardly stared around him. 

Several pairs of blinking eyes stared back at him expectantly.

“Introduce yourself,” Jeonghan suggested, not being much of a help.

“Hi,” Joshua began, cringing at his own accent. “My name is Joshua- I mean Jisoo- I mean, well- anyways. I’m here just to see how the club is. Jeonghan told me to come.” 

“Which one do you prefer?” Jeonghan interrupted. 

“I- what?” 

“Joshua or Jisoo.”

“Honestly-” Joshua paused for a laugh. “Jisoo sounds strange to me, but that’s just because I’ve been Joshua my whole life. But call me either, I don’t care.” 

“Joshua it is,” Jeonghan clapped. “So. Anyways, Seungcheollie is off running errands so I’m in charge today- Shua, you can sit down.”

Joshua flushed and sat in the first seat, staring up at Jeonghan. From this angle, the sweet faced boy looked quite handsome, dark hair brushed over his forehead, his smile wide and angelic yet also carrying traces of mischief. His uniform was loose on his body, just like Joshua’s, and the foreigner appreciated that here nobody seemed to care if boys were thin. He’d dealt with plenty of comments about his slim frame back at home, where every boy was supposedly expected to look like a bodybuilder by high school. Thank god those expectations seemed relaxed around here. 

But here people would certainly care if boys liked each other.

Perhaps not at Pledis High, though. That was why he’d been so shocked when he’d seen Seungcheol and Jeonghan making out minutes previous in the parking lot- he had heard about homophobia in Korea from his parents, but hadn’t realized how liberal his generation here seemed to be about same sex couples. 

Joshua frowned, sinking lower in his seat, Jeonghan’s honey voice flowing over him yet not enough to capture sway of his mind over his turbulent thoughts.

It did not matter how liberal Korea was. Jeonghan kissed Seungcheol and he was Seungcheol’s only. Joshua couldn’t let his stupid new-school fantasies and teenage obsessions run their course and destroy a loving relationship.

Jeonghan giggled at another student’s comment and Joshua curled his hands into fists. He could barely speak Korean, and he wasn’t going to embarrass himself in front of Jeonghan until he could blend in here. 

•

“Shopping mall!” Junhui exclaimed. 

Wonwoo grabbed the latter’s headrest as the latter swerved to the curb. “My god!” Soonyoung even looked shaken. Jihoon’s eyes were wide as saucers. 

They’d just gone on an insanely fast paced ride through the streets and into the small town, heading for the department store. 

“I thought you said food!” Soonyoung complained.

“Food, inside! Lots of things.” Junhui stabbed his finger out at the mall, indicating that he was going no matter what. “Platinum card!”

“What?”

Junhui whipped something out of his pocket, showing them the gleaming bronze card pinched between his fingers. “My dad.”

“He’s rich as hell,” Soonyoung translated.

“Gave… for friends,” Junhui said, waving the card in the air. “Buy things!”

“You’re going to buy us stuff?” Jihoon said. “We’re not really friends though. Won’t your dad be mad you spent platinum card money on us?”

Junhui beamed, clearly not having understood. “Let’s go!”  
“Where do you find these people?” Wonwoo muttered to Soonyoung as they dragged themselves along behind Junhui and Jihoon. 

“Hey, I don’t claim Jihoon. And Junhui’s so sweet to do this. Although maybe he’s more eager to convince us to be his friends. Plus, that’s rich coming from someone who has an overgrown puppy as their best friend.”

“Mingyu used to be your best friend too.”

Soonyoung was silent, his face bitter. “Let’s just- can we just not? For one day? It’s so annoying. I’m a horrible person, and you’re a horrible person. That’s it. No point in going any further about it. We’re not friends anymore. That’s all there is to it. Let’s just shut up about it. Grow up.”

Wonwoo was shocked into quiet, and Soonyoung marched forward to fall into step with the other two.

“There!” Junhui dragged them into a stationary store, which was probably the least interesting thing to every other person in the group. Wonwoo was fervently hoping to visit the bookstore, he knew Soonyoung probably wanted to go to the VR arcade, and he did not give a shit where Jihoon wanted to go. 

Junhui smiled happily as he strolled the aisles of the small stationary store, the others trailing around behind him. He stopped in front of several cases containing pens with small animals on the tops. 

“Pens! For notes. And school.” 

“Good vocabulary, buddy,” Soonyoung nodded appreciatively, ruffling Junhui’s hair as he peered into the cases. “Ooh! Tiger.” 

Junhui followed his gaze to the tiger pen. _“H_ _ǔ_?” He glanced at Soonyoung. “You? Tiger?” Junhui laughed. “No! You… big… cat!” Junhui snatched up a kitten pen, smiling down at it. “I… love cats!”

“What?” Soonyoung snapped. “No. I’m a tiger-”

“Me too,” Wonwoo said, ignoring Soonyoung and prodding Jihoon aside to look at the cat pens. “Oh, they’re nice.”

“You and me!” Junhui gestured between them expectantly. “Together! Pens?”

“You want to match?” Wonwoo chuckled. “How much is one?” 

Junhui pointed at the number board above the pens. “12 pens… 9,000 won.” 

“Why do the two of us need twelve pens?” Wonwoo squinted at the sign, reading the Korean that Junhui had chosen to ignore. “‘You can pick twelve pens at once and get it for 9,000 won deal. Any animals.’ Wow, capitalism.”

Jihoon chuckled at that last statement, and Wonwoo wanted to punch him.

“Not two! Four of us,” Junhui said as if it was the simplest math ever, pointing between all of them. “Three for Soonyoung, three for Wonwoo, three for Jihoon, three for me.” he gestured to the other two. “Pick…” he furrowed his brows and glanced at Wonwoo, who nodded in approval. “Yes. Pick your animals!”

“I want to match too,” Soonyoung announced, and Wonwoo once again felt that wave of emotional whiplash slap across his face as Soonyoung picked up three cat pens. 

“Good!” Junhui’s smile could have powered the sun. “Jihoon?”

“You can pick for me.” Jihoon gestured over the pens, choosing to communicate through gestures. “Pick whatever you want. For me.”

Junhui shrugged. “Okay! Cats for you also. Matching.” As he bent over the pens, he added, “Am I the youngest?”

“Yes,” Wonwoo confirmed. “It’s Jihoon, Soonyoung, me, and then you. We’re all hyungs to you, brat.”

Soonyoung snickered at that. Nobody born in the same year used the honorific, but it was a little fun to trick poor sweet Junhui, Wonwoo had to admit. They’d let the ruse up in a week or so (unless someone went ahead and told Junhui).

Junhui smiled brightly again. Wonwoo wondered if he ever stopped smiling. The boy’s cheek muscles were probably the most exercised in his lean body. 

“Okay, hyungs. Let’s go.” Clutching all the pens in his fist, Junhui skipped to the register. Soonyoung, chuckling, followed behind, Jihoon and Wonwoo bringing up the back. 

As they approached the cashier, everyone began pulling money out of their pockets-

“No, no, no, no, I will pay,” Junhui said vehemently, pushing his platinum card at the confused teenage girl running the register. She blushed and smiled at the lean handsome boy as she scanned the card, glancing at the platinum credit number. 

“What’s your name?” the girl asked, her voice saccharine sweet.

“Junhui,” he replied, looking confused as he scrawled his signature on the pad. 

Soonyoung nudged him tellingly, then grinned at the girl. “Hi.” 

She looked him up and down and turned back to packaging the pens. Jihoon choked on his laughter and Wonwoo pursed his lips to keep from letting out a laugh. 

Junhui looked naively innocent as he took the package from the girl, smiling brightly at her. “Thank you! Bye!”

“She was totally flirting with me,” Soonyoung boasted as they walked out of the store. 

“You wish,” Wonwoo scoffed. “She was looking at Junhui, not you.” 

“You’re just jealous because girls pay attention to me and my cake.”

“No, _you’re_ just jealous because girls notice me before they see you because you’re ant sized next to me.” 

“Your heights are fine, let’s go,” Jihoon crabbed from behind them. 

“Didn’t know you cared about _girls_ ,” Soonyoung said rather offhandedly, before rushing to keep up with Junhui, who was attempting to find a seating area to open the pens like an overeager child. 

Wonwoo stopped in shock, Soonyoung’s words like another slap to the face.

Cheeks burning, he hurried to catch up. 

How did Soonyoung know?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> two chapters today!! here’s the first half...  
> i know i was going to post one huge one but the next half got so prolonged that i’d rather it be one smaller, info-filled chapter than an add on to this one.  
> chapter thirteen, after the next one, is gonna be a ride!! stick around till then, at least :) 
> 
> i’ve decided upon a nice outro: 
> 
> tell someone you love them today! as always, i love you all.  
> -mingyuwu


	14. 12. spilled drama and lavender detergent

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> looooong backstory alert. oml. pls make sure u have time to read this chapter!

“Must you open them this second?” Jihoon asked. “She packed them so nicely.” 

Junhui rolled his eyes, trying to tear the packaging with his teeth. “Need… to… try…”

They were sitting at a small table inside one of the mall’s many Starbucks. Wonwoo was scrolling through his phone, Soonyoung sipping his caramel whipped cream iced americano, and Jihoon was watching Junhui with distaste as the younger boy struggled with the plastic packaging set the girl had put the pens into. 

He succeeded in opening the package, and pulled out the pen he’d been eyeing on the inside of the plastic: a gray and brown plump cat with a lolling tail, sitting on top of a cream colored pen. 

“Paper?” Junhui requested. Soonyoung tossed him the receipt, and Junhui began doodling all over it with the pen.

“That’s a nice pen,” came a voice from behind him, speaking with a soft tone, Mandarin flowing over Junhui like a warm river-

Junhui whirled around to find Xu Minghao standing behind him, smiling as he watched him play with the pen. He suddenly felt very foolish and clicked the cat’s tail to close the pen. 

“Long time no see,” came a voice behind Minghao, and Junhui realized that Seungkwan and Seokmin were here too.

Soonyoung grinned at his friends. “Yeah. It’s been, what, two hours? What are you guys doing here?” 

“Jeonghan hyung’s doing student board stuff, Seungcheol hyung’s gone somewhere, and Chan’s at cram school,” Seungkwan reeled off. “So we thought, hey, just the three of us, why not visit the mall.” 

“These two dragged me along,” Minghao explained in Korean to general laughter.

“Do you all know each other?” Soonyoung asked everyone. “Guys, these are my friends from theater- Seungkwan, Seokmin. That’s my dance friend Minghao, we’re on the team together. This is- well, you guys know Wonwoo and Junhui- that’s Jihoon, he sits with us when Wonwoo and I do tutoring.”

“Nice to meet you,” Jihoon said politely.

“Can we pull up chairs?” Seokmin asked, and Wonwoo nodded, and suddenly their circle had increased, and Minghao was sitting next to Junhui again, smelling like a lavender field, and Junhui was _gone_.

As Seokmin began engaging with Soonyoung in loud chatter, Minghao leaned closer to him. “How’d you convince these guys to hang out with you?” 

Junhui grinned, glad he could start really talking. “I caught Jihoon on my way home, and Wonwoo got dragged by Soonyoung. We went to the stationary store and look-” Junhui held up the pen package. “We bought matching pens!” 

“Four horsemen of the apocalypse,” Minghao joked, leaning closer to look at the pens. “Wow, cute.”

“I know,” Junhui agreed, beginning to click the pen he was holding. “Did you know I’m the youngest of these four?” 

“Yeah, but you’re still hyung to a few people. When you- if you haven’t yet- meet Wonwoo hyung’s best friend Mingyu, he’s my age. And Seungkwan, Seokmin, Chan. We all have to call you hyung, you know.”

“How many people are in this friend group exactly?” Junhui nudged Minghao. “And also, why haven’t you started calling me hyung yet then?” 

Minghao snickered. “When you don’t act like one, why would I do it before you even knew that’s what they do here?”

“Shut up and answer the question, little one.”

Minghao rolled his eyes, glancing around the table. When they’d lapsed into Mandarin, everybody had stopped paying attention and were now in their own conversations. 

After sweeping his eyes around to make sure nobody was still watching (not like they’d understand anyway), Minghao lowered his voice and continued talking. “There is no friend group anymore. But there were nine of us. It all started when I came here in sixth grade. Jeonghan hyung and Seungcheol hyung- you might not have met them yet, they’re seniors now. They were eighth graders then. They’re dating now, too… I think they started going out two years ago. Wonwoo hyung and Soonyoung hyung were both seventh graders, and they _were_ best friends. Mingyu- he’s Wonwoo’s best friend now- moved here from Anyang, it’s a smaller city. I think those three became really close friends. Seokmin was also in sixth grade, and he, Soonyoung hyung, and Seungkwannie, who was only a fifth grader then- started pursuing theater and music at school. Chan, if you don’t know him, he’s a freshman now, because he skipped eighth grade to come and join freshman year with Seungkwan. He dances with me and Soonyoung hyung, and he does theater stuff with the music kids.”

Junhui nodded slowly, Wonwoo catching his eye. The older boy was leaning back in his seat, evidently texting somebody, but every few seconds his eyes would flicker up to Soonyoung, who was telling a long anecdote excitedly (the five pumps of caramel in his frappucino must have kicked in). “Minghao?”

“Yeah?” 

“You said… ‘there were nine of us’. And that everyone used to be friends. Did something happen?” 

Minghao considered him for a minute, then looked around again before turning back to him. “Something did happen.” 

Junhui leaned in.

Minghao bit his lip. “When Soonyoung hyung and Wonwoo hyung were in eighth grade, they got in this horrible argument at the end of the year. It ripped everything apart. Our little circle was ruined, Mingyu didn’t stop crying for the last two weeks of school that year because he was caught between everything, everyone was confused, Jeonghan hyung and Seungcheol hyung were at high school so they couldn’t even help or mediate… It was terrible.” 

“A fight? Like… physical?” 

“No. They just had a row. But it was a really bad one. _Nobody_ knows what happened.” Minghao leaned back in his seat. “All we know is that they split ways. And our whole circle did. Wonwoo hyung took Mingyu with him, because Mingyu was so lost and sad. Soonyoung hyung got most of us. Me, Seungkwan, Seokmin. We didn’t really know what was going on. I certainly didn’t. I was still learning how to speak Korean, for gods sake.” Minghao sighed, running a hand through his hair. “We took Chan with us too, because he was still a fifth grader and was so removed from the drama. He kept asking us why we didn’t hang out with Wonwoo hyung and Mingyu anymore, and we never answered. He probably gets it by now, though.” 

“What about the two oldest?” Junhui shook his head. “Lots of names, I forgot theirs.”

Minghao chuckled. “It’s okay. It’ll take time. Seungcheol hyung and Jeonghan hyung, they remained impartial. I’m pretty sure that Mingyu cried to Seungcheol hyung and spilled everything, and Soonyoung hyung loves to rant so he definitely told Jeonghan every detail. Since Jeonghan sings and does a lot of musical stuff, he hangs out with us a lot. Seungcheol loves Mingyu like his own kid, so he spends lots of time with those two. But they really didn’t pick a side, and I don’t think they ever will.” Minghao paused for a breath. “There’s Wonwoo’s Side and Soonyoung’s Side. And Wonwoo really only has Mingyu. But to be fair, we’re all just sheep blindly following because none of us know what happened. The only people that do are Mingyu, Seungcheol hyung, Jeonghan hyung, Soonyoung hyung, and Wonwoo hyung. And it ruined everything for all of us.” Minghao shrugged. “I’d like to say I’m impartial too. I don’t want to judge because I don’t know the whole story. I’m friendly with Wonwoo’s Side through Mingyu, and I dance with Soonyoung hyung and hang out with these musical guys most of the time, so that’s how I bridge the gaps.”

Junhui nodded slowly, gazing around. “So this must be the first time all these people have met up for a while.”

“Yeah, I’m surprised too. This is really quite the scene, though, Wonwoo hyung isolated from his Mingyu, stuck with Soonyoung and his whole posse. Mingyu usually helps Wonwoo hyung with social interaction, because Wonwoo hyung’s pretty quiet and reserved.”

“I think I got that vibe from him too,” Junhui chuckled, remembering the way the older boy stared at him whenever he acted out. 

“Wonwoo hyung and and Soonyoung hyung hanging out together- I didn’t say anything before because you didn’t know their history, but now you do- isn’t it super weird?” 

Junhui nodded, his eyes big as dinner plates. “I didn’t know that you all had so much drama.” 

Minghao laughed. “I guess we do, huh?” He shrugged. “I think that most everyone has blurred the lines of Wonwoo’s Side and Soonyoung’s Side now, though. It happened three years ago, and there’s people that are friends from both sides- Seungkwan and Mingyu, Wonwoo and Jeonghan, Mingyu and I… it’s just those two. Wonwoo and Soonyoung. Both extremely stubborn, both extremely prideful. They don’t bow to anybody, and they definitely won’t to each other. Not after that long, long hell of a ride back then.”

“Wow,” Junhui exclaimed, blinking rather rapidly. “That’s… really… quite a load of information.” 

Minghao shrugged. “If you want to be our friend you gotta know.”

“But… you don’t tell this to everybody, right? All your friend circle drama.”

“Of course not,” Minghao scoffed. “I can read people like book covers. And I’m pretty sure 99% of the school can’t be trusted with this.” His eyes landed on Junhui. “But you… you seem different, hyung. And I feel like we can trust you. And I think that you’re one of the pieces our torn circle could use in repairing itself.”

Junhui suddenly felt shy. “What do you mean?” 

“I can find new friends easily,” Minghao said slowly, affection sparkling in his eyes as he watched the others. “But I stick around with these because I love them. And I want to see everyone together again. And maybe… you and me, and a little magic or luck or whatever… we could help.” 

Junhui grinned at him. “Maybe we can. I do have a charming reputation.”

Wonwoo lightly tapped Junhui’s chair leg. “Can you two quit the Mandarin chatter while giving us all side glances? I feel like we’re all being gossiped about.” 

“Maybe we are gossiping about you,” Minghao replied back in Korean, a mischievous smile on his lips. 

“That’s pretty obvious,” Wonwoo chuckled, turning back to his phone. 

Minghao winked at Junhui and he felt himself melt a little. Or maybe it was at the way Soonyoung was watching Wonwoo with an intangible emotion shining in his eyes, even as everyone around him was in motion, talking loudly. 

Wonwoo raised his eyes, accidentally catching Soonyoung’s. They stared awkwardly at each other for a few seconds, then reverted back to their tasks- Wonwoo typing furiously, and Soonyoung exuberantly launching into another dialogue.

Junhui felt a grin blossom on his own lips as he inhaled Minghao’s lavender scent again. He’d really need to ask him about what detergent he used- or maybe just steal a sweater. 

He turned to ask Minghao about that detergent, but was immediately lost upon seeing the younger’s smile. 

Jun felt his own smile bloom.

It was time to weave this circle back together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> minghao spills tea but jun is too busy smelling him, basically. 
> 
> soonwoo do be pining. and who’s wonwoo texting, oooh?  
> (it’s just mingyu sitting in the back of seungcheol’s car complaining about his namjoon hyung ofc)  
> anyways the next chapter is gonna be really special! it’s gonna have an excerpt from a lot of main characters because it’s chapter 13- to celebrate our thirteen sebongies of course. 
> 
> anyways, it’d be cool if you commented what u think the big fight was about! remember that touchy comment from that mingyu apologized for, coupled with soonyoungs interests and wonwoo’s disregard for ____ ... i think i’ve laid it out pretty well!!
> 
> i wanna see y’all’s predictions heehee. next chapter probably coming in two days! 
> 
> tell someone you love em today! i love all of you! mwah, mingyuwu <3


	15. 13. a collection of family dinners and deep conversations

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> loooooong chapter ahead! please check the ending notes for some important (and fun!!) info  
> enjoy reading!

“And here it is!” Mingyu’s grandmother placed the steaming pot of thick udon noodles in the center of the table. “Our Namjoonie’s favorite!”

Namjoon smiled happily. “Thank you, _halmeoni_. I’ve really missed your cooking at Stanford.”

_There he went again_ , Mingyu thought. _Always bringing up his stupid school in every sentence._

His grandmother beamed. “And how is Stanford?”

“It’s amazing,” Namjoon beamed. “I just feel so happy at campus, I’m involved in the journalism club as well as debate team and tutoring programs! My professors this year are very good too.” 

Mrs. Kim nodded approvingly, the stiff white bun on her head pinned in place and as rigid as her composure. “I’m glad you’re getting the strong education you deserve for that scholarship. Full ride- I’m so proud.” 

“ _Halmeoni_ ,” Namjoon blushed. “It’s been two years.” 

“Well, who do you think I’m bragging about during teatime with the other aunties?”

Mingyu clutched his chopsticks hard, hard enough that the lower one was pressing painfully against his middle finger, right against the sensitive bruised spot that’d formed after hours of holding his pencil tightly last night as he studied. He was pretty sure Namjoon didn’t have one of those calluses on his fingers.

“This year, I’m taking a double major- astrophysics and political sciences. My favorite classes are MATH51, which is multivariable calculus and linear algebra, and POLISCI22SC, which talks about issues in American politics and ethics within public policy.”

His grandmother beamed. “That’s wonderful, Joon-ah.” Mingyu scoffed quietly, and Mrs. Kim glared at him. “Do you have something to say, Mingyu?”

“Who memorizes the course names of their classes?” Mingyu mumbled, choosing to help himself from the pot after his brother and grandmother served themselves. 

“What classes are you taking this semester, Mingyu-ah?” Namjoon asked with genuine interest, apparently choosing to be mature and not rise to Mingyu’s jibing.

“Why do you care?” Mingyu snapped, folding his arms. “So you can update Ma about my failures when you go visit her tomorrow?” 

“Kim Mingyu,” his grandmother hissed.

Namjoon waved his hand in the air. “It’s alright, _halmeoni_ , I know high school is stressful and I’m sure Mingyu’s got a lot to take care of. I’d be a little irritable too. Gyu, how’s soccer?”

“Fine.” 

“Aren’t you on varsity this year?” 

“Yes.” 

“Still playing midfield, right?”

“Obviously.”

“How’re your friends?” Namjoon smiled tellingly, and Mingyu was frustrated that he wouldn’t just get the hint that Mingyu didn’t want to talk. “Found a girlfriend yet?”

“No. I’m sure you have. Posting all sorts of pictures with hook-up girls at parties,” Mingyu said triumphantly, and watched as his grandmother whipped her head over to Namjoon. 

“What?” 

“He’s exaggerating,” Namjoon said hastily. “I just posted some pictures with some friends studying and stuff.” 

Mingyu scoffed again. “Lots of studying happening in those pictures, I’m sure.” 

Namjoon chose to stuff his mouth with food instead of answering.

Mingyu’s grandmother chose to turn herself back to Mingyu. “Speaking of school, your chemistry teacher called today.” 

Mingyu really, really wished that Namjoon wasn’t here.

“Nice,” he mumbled, pretending that he had no idea what she was talking about.

“He said that your grades are dropping?” 

“They’re not dropping that much,” Mingyu muttered. “It’s an 85 right now, that’s a pretty high score for an advanced science class. Seokmin’s got a 62, and Minghao’s got an 87 but only because he’s teacher’s pet.” 

“I didn’t ask about your friends. They’re not the ones your mother and I will pay college fees for. Namjoon got a perfect score in sophomore year chemistry!” 

“I’m not him!” 

“ _Halmeoni_ , relax, I can help him,” Namjoon said calmly. “I’m here for two days.” 

“I don’t need help. And Wonwoo hyung can help me.” 

“You know what happens if you don’t get all A’s this semester,” his grandmother said warningly. At Namjoon’s confused look, she elaborated, “I’m taking him off the team next semester otherwise.” 

Mingyu bitterly squished a noodle between his chopsticks, watching it break. He was aware of Namjoon watching him with pity.

“You can call me anytime, Mingyu-ah,” Namjoon said consolingly. “I do tutoring at Stanford, and I have my classes, but I can spare some time to help you with-” a small smile crossed his face. “Chemistry.” 

“Don’t laugh at me!” Mingyu snapped. “I’m not smart like you.” 

Namjoon blinked. “I wasn’t laughing at _you_!” 

“Yes you were!” Mingyu felt his face heating up and wanted to cry. He hated this, he hated how inferior and childish Namjoon always made him feel, Namjoon with his mature words and mature expressions and mature style, Namjoon, who his mother had kept with her even when Mingyu had been sent from Anyang. Namjoon who everyone liked better.

“I was smiling because I was remembering sophomore chemistry and how much I enjoyed it!”

“No, you were smiling because you think I’m a stupid idiot!” Mingyu felt tears burning in his eyes and stood up, knowing that he was going to get beaten for this soon. “I’m going to my room.” 

“Kim Mingyu, get back here now!” 

Mingyu ignored his grandmother, shoving his chair aside and storming from the kitchen, hearing Namjoon comforting the older woman as he walked upstairs and into his room, slamming the door shut and taking a small turn in the tiny space, wanting to kick something or throw something or break something-

Mingyu sank to the floor, hugging his knees to his chest and staring out of the darkened window. 

His eyes strayed to the empty frame on the nightstand, the one that he watched every night. There were two sections, but both were void of pictures. 

The pictures had been in there for a while, but he’d taken them out.

Mingyu stood, walking to the dresser and opening the first drawer, sifting around the contents. He wasn’t sure why he wanted to look at the pictures now, but he had nothing better to do and he was already miserable, so it couldn’t quite make anything worse.

He found them, covered in a layer of dust. 

The first one featured a man and woman standing together, the woman bearing Namjoon’s dimples and rounded nose. Her husband was beaming so brightly, his smile reminiscent to that of his younger son, who now stood in a dark room and stared at his dad through a piece of paper. 

Mingyu ran his finger over the glossy material, clearing it of dust. Even through the picture, his father’s many militia badges shone brightly on his suit as he held his wife to him, both looking beyond happy and excited for the future. His mother was wearing a beautiful purple wedding dress, and both of them looked as if they’d just been crying. This picture had been taken right after his parents had gotten married. 

Mingyu moved on to the second picture, his face empty as he gazed at the small family photo that had been taken before their lives were ruined. It was outside their home in Anyang, next to the cherry blossom tree that’d bloomed on the day he was born. Late but beautiful. 

Ten year old Mingyu was clinging to his father, smiling happily. Mr. Kim was laughing as he held his son, tousling the little boy’s hair. Fourteen year old Namjoon was hugging his mother, who was smiling at them all, her eyes bright with affection as she watched her boys.

This picture was taken when his father had received a special deployment mission to some country off somewhere that he wasn’t supposed to tell them about. Mingyu remembered how honored and proud his dad was when he was telling his family about the mission. He’d leave in six months and be away for a year, and yes he’d miss them immensely, but he’d come back and then no more missions. They’d be a family. 

They’d decided then that Mingyu’s mother couldn’t manage two boys on her own, so they sent Mingyu to stay with his grandmother in Seoul as he transitioned to middle school while Namjoon stayed in Anyang for high school. It was no secret to Mingyu now why his parents had made such a decision. When he was very little, Mingyu had been diagnosed with a mild form of secondary developmental perceptual dyslexia. It wasn’t quite bad; in fact he could get by quite well. But they’d thought that sending him to a higher-end city school would be better for his learning. So Mingyu went, and his parents visited him every weekend, and his _halmeoni_ was the sweetest and most loving grandmother he could ask for. 

And then Mingyu’s dad had left and never returned. 

And they hadn’t told him until months later, hadn’t told him about the funeral or anything, because Mingyu’s mother had reasoned that he was already ‘struggling’ and this would ‘destroy him’. 

At the precise time his mother and grandmother decided to tell him, Soonyoung and Wonwoo had broken off their friendship, and everything in Mingyu’s life was spiraling down. Grades, friends, family. Things just seemed to get worse when Namjoon got that stupid scholarship. Because everyone decided to focus on his shining, spectacular older brother, who’d worked hard despite his tragedies and earned a path to a successful life. And stupid, helpless, useless Mingyu was left on his own to struggle.

Mingyu shoved the pictures back into the drawer, knowing that he’d been stupid to bother looking at them. He always felt worse afterwards. 

Namjoon bumped into him in the hallway. 

Mingyu tried to push past, but Namjoon got in the way. “Hey. _Halmeoni’s_ downstairs, and she’s pretty upset. Do you want to try talking to her-”

“Please move, hyung,” Mingyu said, trying his best to keep his composure. He was too exhausted to yell again. “You probably know how to make her feel better than I do.” This was stated quietly, without any harsh bite lacing his words.

Namjoon remained still.

“Please,” Mingyu said, and then gently pushed Namjoon aside, forcing himself to remain put together until he escaped out through the front door, luckily evading his grandmother. 

So much for family dinner.

•

“Jeon Jeongguk! I told you to clean your room before having Taehyung and Jimin over earlier this afternoon!” 

Wonwoo winced as he stepped inside, taking off his backpack and grinning at Jeongguk, who was sprawled on the couch and playing a video game. Jeongguk rolled his eyes back, giving him that look that siblings shared when their mom wasn’t in range. 

“I did clean it!” Jeongguk called back upstairs, eyes focused on the screen. 

“If this is cleaning, young man, you’re going to really struggle in college! Get up here and do your laundry properly now!” 

“Let him off, honey, he’s had a long week, right champ?” Wonwoo’s father called loudly, exiting the kitchen and dusting off his hands. “Dinner’s ready. Come on, Jeongguk, help set the table. Oh, Wonwoo, you’re home? I called you asking if you’d be having dinner with us tonight, your phone location said that you were at the mall. I supposed you were with Mingyu.” 

“Sorry, dad,” Wonwoo apologize, taking off his backpack. “No, Mingyu’s with Namjoon tonight, he’s visiting from college. I was with some other friends, I didn’t see your call.” 

“That’s all right,” Mr. Jeon said, disappearing back into the kitchen. “Jeongguk, last warning. Come here and get the plates for the table.” 

“Alright!” Jeongguk laughed, pausing his game and leaping off the couch, walking over to Wonwoo and ruffling his older brother’s hair as he walked by. “Hyung has other friends?” 

“I have way more friends than you, brat,” Wonwoo yelled after him, smiling and hugging his mother as she came downstairs, looking thoroughly frustrated. 

“Jeongguk, how many times must I tell you to clean your space up?” Mrs. Jeon said exasperatedly, walking over to help her husband carry the food to the dining table. 

“Sorry, ma, I’ll do it after dinner,” Jeongguk apologized, setting the plates hastily. Wonwoo followed his parents into the dining room, holding the chopsticks and water glasses. 

“So! First month of school’s over,” Mr. Jeon said as a way to start the dinner table conversation, once everyone had started eating. “I know we don’t usually talk at the table, but we can make an exception tonight. Jeongguk, tell us about it. Freshman year, isn’t it exciting?” 

Jeongguk laughed. “I guess. It’s nice having a lot more friends nowadays. Jiminie made lots of friends and now we’ve got this big circle. And Taehyungie is always a social butterfly, I guess, so we’ve got loads of guys to play video games with after school.” 

“Were you guys at the computer cafe today after school then?” Mr. Jeon asked sternly.

“For a bit, yeah.” Jeongguk saw his father’s expression and whined slightly. “Dad, it’s Friday! Wonwoo hyung went out too.” 

“I know he did, but your brother knows how to manage his time,” Mr. Jeon replied, pouring a cup of water.

“Who were you with, honey?” Wonwoo’s mother followed up with, looking mildly curious. “Jeonghan and Seungcheol?”

Wonwoo shook his head. “They were both busy. I was just hanging out with some boys from school. Junhui, he’s a transfer student from China, Jihoon sits at my library table sometimes, and… yeah, some of the old group. Minghao, Seokmin, Seungkwan… Soonyoung was with us too.” 

His parents exchanged a glance. “You and Soonyoung are friends again?”

“Finally,” Jeongguk drew out, earning a look from Wonwoo’s mother.

“We’re not really friends again. Just kind of in the same circle nowadays, I guess.” Wonwoo shrugged.

“Well, I think that’s wonderful,” Mrs. Jeon said happily. “It’s great to see you getting out and meeting your friends. Old friends and distant friends too. But-” she frowned- “your CSATs are in a year, Won, and you really need to study more-”

“Speaking of studying more, I failed my biology test today,” Jeongguk said nonchalantly, and Wonwoo was spared from further examination as his parents launched a barrage of angry attacks on his brother for his studying habits.

Wonwoo stared down at his plate, smiling slightly as he remembered this afternoon. It had been nice, he supposed. It _had_ felt kind of like the old days. 

•

“Will always love you~” Soonyoung belted out, waltzing to the table and dishing out plates to his parents. 

Mrs. Kwon shared a smile with her husband. “Someone’s happy.” 

“I got an 80 on my test today for Calculus!” Soonyoung explained. “And I hung out with some friends after school.” 

“That’s wonderful, Soonyoung!” his mother smiled. “I’m glad you’re working hard. You’ll keep it up and make us even more proud next time, right?”

Soonyoung nodded and smiled back at his mom. He was glad she was never so pushy about studying. Amongst his friend circle, he privately thought he had the nicest mom ever. 

“Not spending too much time with friends when you should be studying, right?” his father asked, looking stern.

Ah yes. And that was the compensation for his mother’s relaxed attitude towards cram education.

“No, no.” Soonyoung waited for his parents to take their food before reaching over and serving himself. “We just hung out at the mall for a bit.”

“The usual chamber friends?”

“Yeah, some other people too.”

“Who else?” 

“Honey,” Soonyoung’s mother interjected. “Soonyoung’s old enough to know who to hang out with.”

His father chuckled. “Yeah, right.” 

Soonyoung quietly picked up his chopsticks.

“Perhaps he’d have a better role model if his father wasn’t away all day at work. And all night. And on all the weekends.”

They were back at it again.

Soonyoung grumbled quietly, knowing it’d go unnoticed, and decided to just eat his food as his parents began arguing over the table about how Soonyoung’s father’s business was ‘detrimental to this family unit’ and ‘took time away from home’ and left Soonyoung ‘practically fatherless’.

“You don’t know what you’re talking about,” Mr. Kwon said angrily to his wife. “We just partnered in joint ventures with Mr. Wen from a few streets over. The man’s a business mastermind. We’ll be raking in the money.”

Soonyoung piped up, recognizing the surname. “Jun’s dad?” 

His father spared him a glance. “Yes. And his son’s a good load smarter than you, so best spend more time studying than listening when the adults are talking. Heard Junhui was top of his class back in China. And you’re quite too immature to understand business, so mind your own and eat your dinner. Don’t chime in with the adults.” 

Soonyoung bit his lip. “Dad, you’re talking at the dinner table. I can’t _not_ hear you...” 

“Then don’t interrupt when the adults are talking.” 

“Honey-”

Mr. Kwon raised a hand to silence his wife. “You’ve gone too soft on him. He’s extremely disrespectful, I don’t know if it’s because of that stupid theater program or the way you’ve been raising him while I’ve been busy-”

“Don’t talk about me like I’m not here,” Soonyoung said quietly.

“I am your father. I’ll talk to you how I wish.”

Soonyoung bit his lip, pressing his foot to the floor hard under the table because it was the only way for him to maintain his frustration below breaking point.

“Anyways,” his father continued. “As you know, honey, I’ve been working quite hard on a new prospective product and I’m sure that Mr. Wen will be quite happy to split the profits with me and fund the project. If it’s successful, it could be picked up by companies of the likes of Samsung and SK Hynix. How’s that, love?”

“It is quite impressive, dear, but-”

“If you’re set on insulting my business decisions, I can’t reason with you,” his father cut his mother off, and Soonyoung turned his attention to his bowl, miserably stirring his food around with his chopsticks and wishing family dinner would be over soon. 

•

“Honey, Jian’s throwing the crackers again, I can hear him! I’m busy at the stove, can you come downstairs and-” 

“I’ll take care of it, mom, dad’s in his office room and I think he’s taking a call,” Junhui yelled to the kitchen, rushing into the dining room and prising the crackers from the irritable baby’s hands. “Hey. Hey. Mister. You don’t throw these.” Junhui put the crackers back into the bowl on the baby’s high chair, earning a pouting expression from the infant. “I can pout too, Jian. We could do this all day.” 

“It’s mine!” came a shrieking cry from the living room, and Junhui sighed, giving the infant another doubtful look before moving the baby crackers onto the table rather than the high chair, gathering the crumbled ones on the floor and depositing them in the trash on his way out of the dining room.

“Stay here. Your sisters are acting up again,” Junhui told the baby, heading to the living room. 

Mingmei and Xiuying were busy scrabbling on the floor, each twin screeching as they attempted to wrestle the yellow hair ribbon out of the other’s hand.

Junhui scooped each one up with some difficulty, holding them apart in his arms as he deposited them on the couch, quickly sitting down on either side of them before they went for each other’s throats again. 

“And what’s happening here?” Junhui asked, grabbing the hair ribbon and folding it up in his hands, giving the clear indication that neither girl would get the ribbon if they didn’t explain. 

“She took it! It’s mine! Dad gave it to me!” Mingmei screamed.

“You don’t wear it!” Xiuying cried in reply. “I wanted two for my pigtails!” 

Junhui sighed, watching the girls bicker. “Xiuying, you already have one.” 

“But I need _two_!”

Another sigh. “Alright.” 

Mingmei screeched in fury as her hair ribbon was handed off to her two-minutes younger twin. “Jun!” 

Junhui easily picked her up again, leaving Xiuying on the couch and hurrying upstairs with his kindergarten sister. “Shh!” 

“Where are we going?” Mingmei asked through her tears, clutching to Junhui’s body. 

“It’s a secret. For older siblings only.” Junhui walked into his room, putting his sister down as he went to his desk, looking around in his backpack. “You see, Mei, we have to be good older siblings. This means that we have to give some things away sometimes, because Xiuying’s younger than you and she might not understand that. It’s called being the bigger person.” 

“But I’m older! It’s _my_ ribbon!” 

“We have to believe that being good and giving up things is gonna give us good stuff,” Junhui said, finding what he was looking for. “Like how you gave your ribbon to Xiu, you’re now gonna get something special.”

Despite her frustration, Mingmei crept over to the desk to see what Junhui was hiding in his hands. “What is it?”

“You like cats right?” Upon receiving a small nod, Junhui put a cat pen into Mingmei’s hands. “Look!” 

Mingmei squealed, opening and closing the pen. “It’s for me?” 

“Yeah, you can have it! But you have to let Xiuying play with the ribbon however long she wants to. See how being the bigger person can give you lots of nice things in reward?” 

Mingmei nodded, her attention now focused on the pen, clicking the tip in and out, poking at the little cat on the top. “I love it!”

“Good. And don’t go showing it to Xiuying. It’s our secret. Older sibling secret. Even though we’ve got a few siblings between us. You’re still an older sibling to Xiuying, okay? You’re her only big sister.” 

Mingmei giggled as she interlocked her pinky with Junhui’s, smiling happily. “Okay!”

She raced out of the room, no doubt to stow the pen somewhere very secret and lose it in a few days when she forgot.

“Where’s my cat pen?” Weiyuan joked from the doorway, evidently having been on his way downstairs.

Junhui scowled at him, breaking into a smile seconds later. “You don’t get any.” 

“Why’re you so nice to the girls and Tai, and not with me?” 

“Because you like to play rough. So I have to play rough with you,” Junhui said simply, ruffling Weiyuan’s hair on his way out the door. “Go and help mom. I’m gonna get Tai.” 

He left Weiyuan there, heading down the hall to the room Taihua and Weiyuan shared. 

“Hello, bookworm,” Junhui said, poking his head inside. “Coming to dinner?” 

Taihua spun in his chair, shoving his thick glasses up the bridge of his nose. “Okay.” He leapt down from his chair, closing the heavy encyclopedia he’d been reading and dragging it over to the bookshelves that dominated his side of the room. 

“What were you reading this time?” Junhui questioned the fifth grader, watching as the thin boy struggled to push the thick book back into its spot. 

“An account of marine life in the 1900s,” Taihua replied with complete sincerity, and Junhui chuckled, holding his hand out for his clingiest brother to grab as they walked downstairs.

Junhui’s father was busy cleaning up Jian for dinner, the twins seemed to have reached a calm point of alliance and were now sitting next to each other and playing with a small doll, and Weiyuan was staring hungrily at the plates Junhui’s mother brought in from the kitchen. 

Junhui let Taihua pick a seat before taking the last one, knowing his parents would sit at either end of the rather long table their large family needed. 

“And now, dinner!” Junhui’s father beamed, and everyone smiled as Junhui’s mother began serving.

“We learned about frogs in science today!” Taihua began the conversation, and everyone chuckled at the overeager approach to a subject that most fifth graders felt certainly averse to. “And I knew the answer to every single question but… well, I couldn’t say the answer out loud because of course, I can’t speak well in Korean yet, but I knew all the answers!”

“That’s so cool,” Mr. Wen smiled. “Wei, what about you?” 

Weiyuan shrugged in the typical middle schooler way. “I don’t really know. We played soccer in gym, though.”

Junhui tried not to laugh at the look on his parents’ faces and instead reached across the table to retrieve a clump of rice Xiuying had dropped onto the mahogany. 

“We are learning the alphabet!” Mingmei cheeped, and the twins launched into the Korean alphabet song, everyone watching them with adoration in their eyes.

“And what did you do today?” Junhui joked, looking at the youngest family member.

Jian shrieked in reply, or perhaps that was just because Junhui’s mother was trying to feed him a potato _gā lí_ that the infant was not fond of. Everyone laughed at the baby’s antics, and the table was soon enveloped in happy chatter.

“Why are you so happy today, though?” Weiyuan asked Junhui when Taihua had once again taken over general conversation with another frog-lesson anecdote. 

“What do you mean?” Junhui leaned closer to hear Weiyuan over Taihua. 

“I don’t know. You’ve been… bouncing around. Since you got home.” 

“I found another Mandarin speaker,” Junhui said conversationally. “So I’m just happy that I’ve got someone to talk to, you know, _really_ talk to, at school.”

“So lucky,” Weiyuan sighed. “I haven’t found any. Is that really why you’re grinning, though?”

“That’s really it.”

“Is this Mandarin speaker a pretty girl?” 

“Why? And no.”

“Because you look lovesick.” 

“Who said girls make me lovesick?”

“Well, you never told me boys did.” 

“It’s none of your business what makes me lovesick,” Junhui flicked Weiyuan’s forehead gently. “Eat your food.”

“You’re gonna tell me later about this guy right?”

“Wei, we’re really just friends!”

“Yeah, sure.”

“You’re so dirty, Wei.” 

“Mhm.” 

Junhui’s parents were glancing their way, having heard the word ‘dirty’ in their side conversation. Junhui nudged Weiyuan and they both returned to their food, grinning. 

Just friends indeed.

•

“Someone’s quieter than usual,” Mr. Xu said as they sipped their tea. Dinner was to be served in a half an hour, and on account of a supposed flu going around in their apartment complex Minghao’s mother had insisted they partake in a few cups of pure green tea before the meal.

“I’m just tired,” Minghao excused himself, swallowing the slightly bitter, rich tea. 

“Tired from?” his mother asked, looking concerned. Great. He shouldn’t have said that, not with all the aunties frantic about the seasonal cold going around. 

“Dance practice. And after-school outings.” Minghao’s eyes widened as he realized that he’d forgotten to tell his parents. “Oh. Mom, dad, I met this guy at school. His name’s Junhui and he’s just moved here from Shenzhen.”

“Wow,” Mrs. Xu said, looking intrigued as she put down her teacup. “Does he live here?” 

“Er- no. He’s actually pretty rich, he lives in that neighborhood behind my school. You know, where Soonyoung hyung lives. His dad’s a businessman and they’re super well off.”

“Hm,” Mr. Xu said, looking rather skeptical of Junhui’s character now. “Is he nice?”

“Yes, dad.” Minghao sighed. “Not every rich person is stuck up, you know.”

“You don’t know the world like us, son,” Mrs. Xu said darkly, and Minghao had to agree. As immigrants coming to Korea a few years ago, Minghao knew that his parents had a few rough years dealing with the darkness of being foreigners while hiding it from their middle schooler son. Minghao certainly had felt uncomfortable in his own social status when he’d joined Soonyoung’s friend group in middle school. They’d all had big houses and lots of luxury. Minghao lived in a two bedroom apartment.

“Anyways, Junhui’s super nice. He bought stuff for all the guys he was hanging out with-”

“-all part of an act to get them to like him,” Mrs. Xu said solemnly.

Minghao sighed. “Can I talk please, mom?” After a few seconds of silence, he continued. “He’s a really good guy, okay? I’m helping him out at school, you know, because he’s a little lost and confused. He seems really nice.” 

“Hm. Be careful.” 

Minghao rolled his eyes. “Let’s eat dinner.” 

•

“So, how did you like the meeting?” 

“It was okay,” Joshua lied. The meeting was alright, yes, but he’d enjoyed watching Jeonghan more.

They walked through the slowly darkening streets to the neighborhood across the school where they’d realized each other lived barely a few minutes ago. 

“Wonwoo and Seungcheol live in this community too, along with my other friends Seungkwan and Seokmin,” Jeonghan explained as they walked under the canopy of trees at the entrance of the neighborhood. “It connects to the one behind the school via this really big park. We’re technically not supposed to use it to cross into the other neighborhood and get to school, but it’s a tip if you’re running late.” 

Joshua laughed. “Sure. It sounds like you use that shortcut every day, though.” He cringed at his pronunciation, how stupid it sounded when compared to Jeonghan’s. 

Jeonghan grinned. “Nah. My boyfriend drives me.” 

“Oh.” Joshua nodded fervently. “Seungcheol, right?”

“Yeah. We’re really a pair.” Jeonghan smiled. “Are you walking to school the long way every day though?”

“Only been here a few days, but yeah.”

“Seungcheol’s a sweetheart, and I’m sure he wouldn’t mind driving you too. Which street do you live on?” Upon hearing his answer, Jeonghan smiled. “Yeah, it’s only a few corners from our street. I’m sure he’d be cool with it!”

“Are you sure?” Joshua asked rather doubtfully. He was more concerned for his own restraint and emotional health if he had to watch them together every day. It’d only been a few days since Joshua had moved here, yes, but Yoon Jeonghan was a delectable treat and Joshua couldn’t help but feel jealous to watch Seungcheol have him.

“Yeah! I’m seeing him later tonight, I’ll ask, but I’m sure he’ll say yes.” Jeonghan began skipping along the sidewalk, Joshua walking faster to keep up. “You know, your pronunciation is so cute, Shua.” 

“Cute?” Joshua asked, like an idiot.

“Oh- oh, not like that. I mean, it’s just really adorable to watch you get flustered over small sentences.” Jeonghan lightly patted his shoulder. “Don’t worry about your fluency too much. I think you’re really good.” 

“Thanks,” Joshua said dreamily. “Means a lot.”

“Isn’t this your place?” Jeonghan said, stopping in front of Joshua’s house.

“Yep.” Joshua smiled at him. “Thanks for walking me.”

“Of course! I’ll make sure to text you what Seungcheol says- wait, I don’t have your number.”

Joshua nearly exploded as they exchanged their phone numbers, Jeonghan waving him bye as Joshua stood on his front steps, mind moving faster than his fluttering heartbeat. 

Seungcheol would have to keep a better eye on his treat if he didn’t want it stolen.

• 

“Is dad not coming to dinner tonight?” Jihoon asked his mother as they set the table. Mrs. Lee’s face was tightly pursed.

“I suppose not.” 

Jihoon decided not to press the matter.

They sat down and ate quietly for a bit, the light above them humming and providing the only sound in the room. 

“I hung out with some friends today,” Jihoon said quietly, and his mother glanced up at him, smiling slightly.

“That sounds nice. Where did you all go?”

“Just to the department store downtown. It was a casual trip.”

His mother nodded, reaching across the table and gently setting a hardboiled egg on his plate. “Who was there?”

Jihoon couldn't remember the last time he’d been asked two consecutive questions about a hobby, activity, interest, or outing he’d had. “Oh, just some boys from school. Jeon Wonwoo- he’s class topper; Kwon Soonyoung, from the dance team; Wen Junhui, he’s a Chinese new student, and some other guys were there too. I didn’t know them though.”

His mother smiled, putting some more food in his plate. “I’m so glad you had fun, baby bear.”

Jihoon blinked at his mother. He couldn’t remember the last time she’d called him that. 

“I was looking at your old photo albums today,” his mother said as a simple explanation. “Eat a little more.” 

Jihoon was about to tell her about some silly thing Soonyoung had been talking about when the door opened. 

As if a switch had been flicked, his mother glanced up again, her previously softened features now hard and irritable. “Finally.” 

“You don’t see me saying that when you get dinner on the table.” Mr. Lee snapped, stepping inside and putting down his briefcase.

“Well-”

“Oh, shut up. I’ve had a day.”

“Dad?” 

Mr. Lee glanced at his son. “Yes? What?”

Jihoon was silent for a second, and then patted the spot next to his at the dinner table. “Come eat dinner with us.” He hadn’t missed how miserable his mother seemed when his father had cut her off. “Please, dad?”

Mr. Lee sighed. “Jihoon, I’m busy-”

“Please,” Jihoon persisted. “I want to tell you what I did after school today.” Even talking this little, why was it making him sweat so much? Was he really this anti-social? No, he’d push through for his mom, his mom who always just wanted the three of them to sit down and have a family dinner. They couldn’t argue if they were listening to him, right?

Maybe he was being stupid. Maybe this wasn’t going to fix anything. Now they were both looking at him, and his face felt hot and he couldn’t breathe right and his palms were sweating and-

Mr. Lee slowly pulled off his suit blazer, placing it on the back of his chair as he sat down, watching Jihoon expectantly. 

“You can start eating,” Jihoon forced out. 

HIs father slowly began serving himself, still watching him curiously. Jihoon’s mother was also watching him, but with a tender, gentle look in her eyes. 

It gave him strength.

“So after school today,” Jihoon began, and tried to pretend that he was just talking to himself, because that was the only person that didn’t give him an anxious feeling. So he persisted, pretending that he couldn’t see them, pretending that he was just telling himself a story.

And slowly he loosened as the meal progressed, loosened after his father laughed about Junhui trying to open the pens, loosened after his mother questioned if Wonwoo was eating enough because Jihoon described him as very thin, loosened after his father said that they seemed like nice boys.

Because at the end of the day, he realized, he would feel better if they were smiling. He didn’t even care that it was about his account of what happened today- he didn’t even know how coherent he had been. Jihoon had never held an audience solo for more than five minutes, and he was sure that he’d just talked for fifteen. It had been one of the most nerve-wracking experiences of his life. 

No, he felt better if they were smiling because it made them feel normal. It made his family feel more like a normal one. It made him happy if they weren’t yelling at each other.

•

“I think we’re gonna be well prepared by the time of the concert,” Seokmin assured Seungkwan. “Don’t worry.”

“Yeah, well…” Seungkwan tilted his face to the setting sun. They’d just spent the last few hours after school stuck in a practice room, singing and singing until their throats ached. 

“You need to relax a bit!” Seokmin wrapped an arm around Seungkwan’s shoulder. “You’ve got the honey vocals, alright. You’re so talented and a few hard songs won’t ruin your reputation forever. Everyone loves you.”

“I guess,” Seungkwan sighed. “But that doesn’t mean I just get a free pass from not doing a good job…”

“You will do a good job,” Seokmin assured him.

“Are you staying over at mine tonight? I know you’re three doors down but we haven’t had a sleepover in so long. I know Soonyoung’s busy tonight but we can just chill.” Seungkwan explained.

“Sure. I’ll text my dad. How’re things at home?”

“Mom’s doing okay,” Seungkwan said, brushing his hair out of his face. “She’s spending a lot of time at the pharmacy working overtime, though. I hope she can get some rest this weekend. How’s your dad?”

Seokmin nodded. “The economy isn’t so good right now, so dad’s spending a lot more time at the office. I keep telling him to eat and rest more, you know, because there’s not really a mother figure around to do that…” 

“There could be,” Seungkwan grinned.

Seokmin gently nudged him. “We’ve been joking about setting them up for years. When are we actually going to do that, huh?”

“Not like it’d happen anyway,” Seungkwan sighed. “Imagine you being my brother- gross! I have to spend my school day calling you hyung, and I certainly don’t want to come home and do the whole thing over again.”

Seokmin lightly pinched Seungkwan’s cheek. “And here I was being so happy at the thought of having a cute little sibling.”

“Hmph. Anyways, do you think it could really work?”

“We could just try. My dad and your mom seem like really compatible people.”

“Hyung?”

“Yes, my little Seungkwannie?”

Seungkwan shoved him lightly. “Do you ever… feel guilty? When you talk about setting them up?”

“What do you mean?”

“Like… don’t you feel guilty towards your mom? I feel guilty for my dad, even though I never knew him.”

“Listen,” Seokmin said gently, stopping and grasping Seungkwan by the shoulders. “You’re doing it again. Being all apologetic for something that can’t possibly be yours to apologize for.” 

Seungkwan bit his lip. “But-”

“Your dad was a scum and so was my mom. You know that, Seungkwan. What kind of parent leaves a newborn child like your dad left for America? And what kind of mother leaves her son with a busy man for some career in Germany like mine did?” Seokmin watched him sympathetically. “I’m not saying they didn’t love us. They may have, but their reasons for leaving were horrible, and we can’t even remember them saying goodbye because we were so little. You have an amazing mom left, and I have the best dad in the world.”

Seungkwan managed to smile. “Yeah.”

“So,” Seokmin drew out. “We should try to give both of them the happiest time of their lives after what they’ve endured. What do you think?”

Seungkwan nodded tentatively, a small smile on his face. “Yeah.”

“We shall begin planning it out tomorrow,” Seokmin declared, turning back to the path and tugging Seungkwan along. “Anyways, in other news, how’s- who’s that?”

They both squinted off at the nearby park, where a lone figure was sitting with their back to the pair, in a swing quite too small for their broad frame. 

“Speak of the devil, I was just about to ask you about Mingyu and there he is,” Seokmin grinned. “Go and talk to him.”

“Hyung, that could be anybody.”

“It’s Mingyu, stupid. No other idiot is that tall, and no other idiot that tall would go sit in a swing made for a four year old. Go and say hi.”

“Why would I want to make a fool of myself that way? Maybe he’s waiting for someone.”

“Yeah, well whoever he’s potentially waiting for isn’t here yet. Shoot your shot.”

“What-”

“I’ll head to your house early and if your mom’s already there from work I’ll tell her that you’re walking a kid home from the park. Earns you brownie points. Plus I can use the time to talk about how hardworking and cool my dad is when she asks me about how things are at my place.”

“Hyung… you’re not the slickest person…”

“Shut up and go talk to your almost-boyfriend.”

Seungkwan kicked him in the leg before walking off towards the park and Mingyu’s distant unknowing figure.

•

In another park, two figures walked close, their fingers intertwined and stowed in the pocket of Seungcheol’s letterman jacket, the back and the sleeves pinned up with various lacrosse achievements. Jeonghan had one too, his being decorated in patches for the tennis team and commemorating his captaincy, but he’d either lost it or it was in the wash. 

“How was government?” Seungcheol asked, his voice soft with adoration as he watched his boyfriend. Jeonghan’s face was flushed pink from the early fall evening chill, his faded platinum blonde locks cascading over his forehead. 

“It was okay. A little overwhelming, though, to take over a whole room.”

Seungcheol squeezed his hand, smiling at how slender and small Jeonghan’s hand was in his. “I’m sure you did great, baby.”

Jeonghan brightened. “I think Joshua had a good time.”

“Really?” Seungcheol grinned. “That’s great.”

“Yeah. He was all wide eyed and excited. Or maybe-” Jeonghan ran a hand through his hair sassily. “Because I’m that sexy.”

Seungcheol chuckled, lightly pulling Jeonghan to his side. “Yeah. Sure.”

“Excuse me, you’re my boyfriend.”

“That I am. But you’re too cute to be sexy, love.” Seungcheol pulled his hand away from Jeonghan’s, pulling off his jacket and draping it around Jeonghan’s shoulders instead. “Wear it, it’s cold.”

“You’re _so_ cliched, Choi, you know that?”

“You’re _so_ whipped for me, Yoon, you know that?”

Jeonghan laughed, and the sound brought happiness to Seungcheol’s heart. “Yeah. I do.” They kept walking. “Oh, by the way,” Jeonghan remembered. “Do you think we could give Joshua a ride to school?” 

“Tomorrow?” 

“No, no. I mean like regularly.”

Seungcheol frowned. “Um… I don’t know. Why?” 

“Cheol, he lives in our neighborhood, and it’s such a long walk to school.”

“We let Seungkwan and Seokmin walk.” 

“They like to walk, though. Come on, Cheol, please.” 

Seungcheol shrugged. “We don’t even know Joshua, don’t you think it’s a little weird?”

“No, no, Cheol… he’s so sweet. He’s really absolutely adorable, like a tiny confused bunny… you just spend two minutes with him and you’ll be in love!” Jeonghan blanched at the look on Seungcheol’s face. “Not like that! I mean… he’s just really innocent and gentle and you’d want to drive him if you talked to him more.” 

“So seeing as you’ve spent more than two minutes with him, I suspect you’re head over heels at this point,” Seungcheol said dryly.

“Cheol, you know that’s not what I meant.” 

“I don’t know, you’ve hung out with him for like two days and suddenly you’re his biggest supporter and he’s all ‘gentle’ and ‘sweet’ and ‘innocent’.” 

“Seungcheol, come on. Baby.”

“Don’t baby me after you sweet-talk _adorable Joshua_.”

“Cheol.” Jeonghan caught his hand. “Hey.” 

Seungcheol glared at him. 

“I just… I didn’t mean it like that. Just give him a chance, okay? You’ll see.”

Seungcheol rolled his eyes. “Yeah. Right. I’m sure I’ll feel really open to him after seeing how much _my_ boyfriend’s attached to him.” 

“Don’t pull that, mister,” Jeonghan said, holding Seungcheol’s face in his hands as he leaned in for a kiss. “You know I’ve only got eyes for you, right?” 

Seungcheol melted into the kiss, knowing it was stupid to argue like this. But he’d had a long week, and he had a lacrosse game tomorrow, and he was tired and frustrated and hearing Jeonghan talk about Joshua like that had been the final straw. “I know. I’m sorry.”

“Tell you what,” Jeonghan suggested, pulling away and resting his forehead against Seungcheol’s, standing on tiptoe slightly. “I’ll bring him to your game tomorrow and you can hang out with him for a bit.”

Seungcheol grinned. “You remember my games?”

“Don’t play fool, Choi, you know I’ve got them all in my calendar. Just as how you remember mine. Except you don’t need the calendar because you’re a spectacular person.”

“Trying to soften me with compliments, I see.” 

“Shut up. Can I bring Joshua tomorrow or not?”

“Alright, fine. But you better keep your hands to yourself. If I even see you looking at him in a weird way, I’ll throw my crosse at him.”

“What do you mean? My hands are going to be on you.” 

Seungcheol chuckled, looping his arm through Jeonghan’s as they kept walking. “I’ll walk you home. Tell your mom thanks for dinner.”

“Yeah, of course.” Jeonghan let his head rest on Seungcheol’s shoulder, which made it quite harder for them to walk in a straight line, but Seungcheol didn’t mind. “I’m really sorry, Cheol. I didn’t mean to make you feel insecure or uncomfortable. He’s good looking but he’s really just a friend. I promise.”

“I know.” Seungcheol nestled his cheek to Jeonghan’s head. “I know.”

•

Seungkwan slowly walked towards the boy sitting in the swing set, dragging his feet in the play sand as the swing moved a few inches forward and then back. 

“Mingyu hyung?” 

The boy startled around, turning to face him, and Seungkwan gasped out of pity.

The streetlight nearby cast a pale golden light on Mingyu’s features, illuminating the teartracks streaked down his cheeks, flushed from crying. Mingyu’s eyes were swollen, his eyelashes clumped together with tears, his hands trembling even as he fisted them in his pockets.

Seungkwan felt a rush of worry. “Hyung, what’s wrong?” 

Mingyu dully shook his head, wiping his tears furiously as he turned his back to Seungkwan again. “Nothing. You should go home. It’s dark.”

Seungkwan marched over, walking around the swing set to face the miserable older boy. He knelt in the sand so he could see Mingyu’s downturned face. “Seriously, hyung, what happened?” 

Mingyu shook his head again, sniffling quietly. “I didn’t think anyone would be here…”

Seungkwan began to feel uncomfortable. Perhaps he was doing more harm than good. “I can get Wonwoo hyung, if you want,” Seungkwan said, casting his eyes to the houses along the park. “I think I know where he lives…”

“No,” Mingyu said suddenly as Seungkwan stood, reaching out and grabbing Seungkwan by the sleeve. “No. Stay.”

Seungkwan slowly dropped into the swing next to Mingyu’s, kicking at the ground to make it sway back and forth slightly. 

It was quiet for a while, Mingyu sniffling quietly, crickets chirping as if they knew soon their voices would be cut off by winter’s fast approaching icy blade. The air was cool already, dropping rather low for a September night. Wind rustled the leaves already having left their trees, and Seungkwan watched as warm toned leaves skittered over the ground, awakened by the breeze. 

“Do you ever feel like…” Mingyu paused, his voice having cut through the quiet in a way that he must not have expected.

Seungkwan glanced at him, watching patiently. 

“Like… I don’t know. Whatever you do, you’ll never be able to satisfy everybody?”

Seungkwan sagged into his swing. “Sometimes.”

Mingyu nodded, glancing down at the ground and rubbing his shoes into the sand again. 

It was quiet a little more, and then,

“My brother came home today.”

Seungkwan smiled over. “That must be nice.”

Mingyu shrugged. “I missed him. But at the same time I didn’t.” A shorter pause. “He’s really smart. And it seems like whether he’s home or not, he’s always the star of everyone’s attention. And… it goes deeper than that.” Mingyu glanced at Seungkwan. “I don’t know if I want to talk about it. But… it does go deeper. About my family. I just… I feel like I’ll be never be worth anything to them, next to him. I certainly won’t be in my grandmother’s eyes. But I want to make my parents proud. I just want to do something successful. Anything. I just need to know that I’m going to make _someone_ proud someday.” Mingyu’s voice broke, and Seungkwan watched a beetle crawl over the sand as the sound of Mingyu’s soft sobs filled the quiet clearing. 

“I sometimes feel second best too,” Seungkwan began, because it was hurting him to see Mingyu cry like this. His Mingyu hyung who he always looked up to, his crush who was always so brave and strong and confident. “I feel second best- maybe even third or fourth best. When I’m practicing with the chamber group. And I know… I know it doesn’t compare to family drama. I know that. But… in a way, those hyungs- and Chan, I guess- are the family I’ve got at school. And when I see how effortlessly, how elegantly they perform… it makes me doubt myself. It makes me wonder why I’m performing with them. Imposter syndrome, I guess.”

Mingyu nodded, evidently listening carefully. 

“And I know it can feel that way sometimes, that everyone’s got a strength and you don’t. But that’s such a lie, hyung. At least in your case, it’s such a lie. You’re so talented and athletic, you’re so good at soccer. And you are in advanced classes, even if they’re not as hard as the classes that Namjoon hyung took when he was your age, who cares? You’re still ahead of a lot of people academically. You’re really smart and kind, you’re really athletic, and you’re _really_ handsome.” Seungkwan blushed at the end. “And you might not think those are valuable, good things… but I do.”

Mingyu was silent. And then,

“I like your voice best out of the chamber singers.” 

Seungkwan was stunned. “You- you do?” 

“It sounds really strong and bold sometimes but also really soft and breathy and it tells emotion really well,” Mingyu said quietly. 

“Thank you,” Seungkwan said quietly. It meant more coming from Mingyu. He would be screeching with excitement, but the mood was dampened and he didn’t want to make Mingyu think he was a psychopath for grinning while the other was still teary.

Mingyu got to his feet, wiping his eyes again. “I should go home. My brother’s probably worried.”

Seungkwan stood too, taking a chance and wrapping his arm around Mingyu’s. “Do you want some company on the way?” 

Mingyu smiled. “That would be nice.”

“So tell me,” Seungkwan said as they started off, “when have you been listening to me sing on my own for such extended periods of time that you’ve marked down every tone of my voice?”

Mingyu’s answering laugh was enough to make the dark sky sparkle with stars and bring a smile to Seungkwan’s lips.

•

“I hate cram school,” Hansol complained as he and Chan left the stuffy building, blinking in the sudden darkness. They’d been locked up in cram school right after school had ended, barely spending ten minutes on their walk to the large building in town to buy yogurt and jellies at a corner store before entering the hours-long hell. 

“I know. My head feels like it’s a glass full of water that keeps getting filled. It’s gonna overflow soon.” Chan swung his backpack over his shoulder. “I hate my parents. It’s so unfair. None of the other theater kids have to go to cram school, they have more time to devote to auditions and all those things. And I’m smart enough, aren’t I? I skipped a grade.”

Hansol laughed as they arrived at a street corner, waiting for the daily 8 PM bus that’d take them to their apartment complex. “I mean, I’m grateful my parents are spending so much money on it. It’s really, really expensive.”

“Yeah, well, I’d rather they save that money for my college,” Chan said exasperatedly as they boarded the bus, showing the driver their Pledis High ID cards to verify they could ride for free under the school’s transportation program in coordination with the city buses. 

The pair fell into their seats, exhaling as they stared up at the ceiling of the bus. Ten seconds later, they forced themselves up again to offer the seats to a pair of girls that’d also been coming from the cram school.

Chan wrapped his hands around a loop hanging from the ceiling, watching buildings blur together as the bus began to travel the city. 

Hansol was busy scanning the bus, watching the familiar sight of exhausted students at their breaking point. Nearly every person on the bus was a teenager of their age or younger; all working hard and stressing equally as hard under their parents’ influences. 

“Youth is dying,” Hansol remarked poetically to Chan. “We’re spending our childhood locked up in school, and after official school- _more_ school so we can ‘get ahead’ or ‘be the top’ or whatever! Then a short bus ride reprieve, followed by a stressful family dinner in which we’re questioned about how much we’re studying- then more studying! Studying until we fall asleep over our books near midnight or one.”

“I know,” Chan agreed miserably. “Let’s eat those jellies now.”

They dragged their feet into their apartment complex ten minutes later, lips attached to the troublesome plastic packaging as they sucked on candy. 

Minghao was at the mailboxes inside the lobby, collecting his family’s mail. Chan waved over at his dance friend, and Minghao waved back, signaling them to wait as he locked the safebox and walked over. 

“What are you wearing, hyung?” Chan asked rather amusedly, for Minghao was bundled in a jacket that was thoroughly overkill for a September evening, nevermind that he hadn’t even exited the apartment building.

“My mother’s going ballistic about ‘early onset flu season’ so I’m being tortured this way,” Minghao remarked as they got into the elevator, Hansol chuckling as he managed to rip open another candy packet, the jelly disappearing in an amount of time that did a slight disservice to the three minutes the coffee-haired boy had been struggling with the packet. 

Chan offered Minghao a candy, which the other took. “You look so tired. Cram school?”

“Yeah,” Chan sighed, leaning against the elevator wall. 

“Do you want to hear my speech on youth?” Hansol asked Minghao, who nodded with a slight smile, being used to Hansol’s frequent episodes of waxing poetic. They rode the city bus to school every morning, the three of them, and while Minghao and Chan were much too tired to talk much in the early mornings, Hansol usually had something eloquent and artistic to say.

“Youth,” Hansol began. “Youth is dead. We go to school, official school, and then…” Hansol trailed off, shaking his head as he frowned. “I’m so brain dead I can’t even remember what I said.” 

Minghao chuckled as the elevator stopped on the fifth floor, one that they all shared. “I’m sure you’ll remember soon.”

They stepped out onto their floor, Minghao wishing them good night and luck with their studying before retreating into his apartment.

Chan and Hansol walked a little further down the quiet hallway, the light flickering above them. They deposited their candy wrappers in the trash bin with a pair of mischievous smiles before leaning their backs on their doorways, which coincidentally mirrored exactly opposite each other. This, of course, had lead to many mornings of the two boys rushing into the hallway and crashing into each other in their haste to get to school on time.

“Night,” Hansol yawned. “Don’t stay up too late.”

Chan grinned back, rubbing at his eyes. “Same to you, hyung. See you tomorrow morning.”

And with that, two doors closed softly, and hours later midnight arrived to Seoul and the flickering light in the hallway went out, although the lights were still on in three bedrooms within the apartment building; Minghao, Chan, and Hansol all hunched over desks and scrawling tiredly.

And in other places there were people up too;

Mingyu staring at a faded picture as he lay curled up in bed,

Wonwoo thinking of his evening with a smile on his face,

Soonyoung caught between happiness and bitterness as he clicked the cat pen, 

Junhui content as he gazed at the ceiling, Taihua asleep at his side despite the younger boy having his own room,

Jihoon smiling as he listened to his parents laughing downstairs,

Seungkwan and Seokmin giggling together as they sang through their Friday evening playlist, Seungkwan’s mother watching affectionately from the doorway,

Jeonghan texting Joshua about the lacrosse game tomorrow,

Joshua smiling at his phone like a fool,

Seungcheol’s face blank and his mind in turmoil as he fought anger and frustration.

All of this happened as night slid into the city, the sky’s canvas now dim with pinpricks of starlight, the moon watching thirteen boys all tangled in their own stories.

Sweet dreams, the moon wanted to say. But it seemed that everyone had too much on their mind to sleep tonight. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> kinda exploded sorry. a LOT of writing at once hehe
> 
> anyways, comment below your favorite scene from this chapter! you’ve got quite a few to choose from. 
> 
> as always thanks for reading!! you guys mean so much to me and ily all so much 
> 
> tell someone you love them today! i love all of u <3  
> -mingyuwu


	16. 14. lacrosse games and blue skies

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW// VAPING, WAR, DEATH
> 
> this is a really heavy chapter. please read at your own comfort level.

Saturday.

Joshua Hong woke up tangled in his sheets, the sun burning a patch onto his cheek. He’d been much too flustered last night to close the blinds properly.

Sitting up, he blinked sleepily around the room, mellow and calm until-

Joshua Hong slid into his Hong Jisoo persona, focus snapping over his mind like a pair of glasses sharpening a weak vision.

He had approximately an hour before the lacrosse game at school, and his first official attempt at wooing Yoon Jeonghan in his own special way.

Joshua was off to the bathroom in a blink. 

Twenty minutes later, he was posing in his bedroom mirror, wondering if today he should be sweet adorable Jisoo or party boy Joshua. Jeonghan had told him last night to wear his school uniform to the game to show Pledis support, but he could still style this bland thing up if he chose to, or dress down and modestly like how Hong Jisoo would. 

Well, Jeonghan had seen doe-eye innocent Jisoo yesterday, so…

Joshua grinned as he left the top two buttons of his uniform open, flicking the collar out slightly. Yes, that’d do. He wasn’t going to be bringing-tea-to-the-aunties Jisoo today.

After a moment more of consideration, he snatched a bandana from a moving box that he still hadn’t opened- after all, he’d only been here three days. The bandana had been a gift from a friend in the states, and Joshua had chucked it into the box while packing without a second care- he never wore those things anyway.

But he’d observed Seungcheol’s rich, classy, polished and handsome aura yesterday, and realized that Yoon Jeonghan needed some excitement in his life. Some heart-racing, breath-stealing bad boy excitement. Jisoo could be gentleman, but Joshua was here to do business.

Joshua tried unsuccessfully to fashion the bandana over his forehead before realizing that he clearly didn’t know how to wear this thing. 

Giving up, he idly tied it around his slim bicep, right where the uniform ended, which wasn’t too impressive considering that he barely worked out- but to his surprise it kind of ‘slapped’ (which was what he’d say if he was at home). 

Joshua grinned at his reflection, then frowned. No. Too cute.

He let his eyes slowly accustom to a dazed, dreamy look instead, and smirked. Yes, that was certainly better. And much more familiar, really. 

A part of him- a rather large part, actually, wondered where his resolve from yesterday went. Hadn’t he promised himself not to screw around? 

Well, he hated it here and he didn’t want to be here anyway so maybe if he made enough of a mess his parents would call for him to come back home. Even though him being a mess was the reason they’d carted him off here anyway.

_ “You need an intervention,” Joshua’s mother said tearfully, his father gently rubbing the hysterical woman on the back. “What did we do wrong, Jisoo?”  _

_ Joshua was silent, glaring at the floor. On the table between them, several colorful vape devices fanned out, result of Joshua’s mother rudely cleaning his room when he’d been out with his friends. _

_ “We’ve given you every opportunity on this planet,” his father said carefully. “But you want to screw your life up with these… these things?”  _

_ “They’re harmless, dad.” Joshua sighed and sat back in his seat.  _

_ “They are not harmless!” his mother choked on her tears. “Jisoo…” _

_ “Mom, we’re not in Korea. I’ve never been Jisoo.” _

_ “You’re always my Jisoo!” his mother reached across the table, cupping his cheek in her hand. “I carried you for nine months, honey. I fed you and cared for you and clothed you and it hurts me so much to see you doing this to your body. This is… this feels like we failed as parents.” _

_ “Mom- mom.” Joshua felt guilty to see his mother crying this way. He grasped her hand. “Mom, I’m fine. See? I’m not, like, having breathing problems, or collapsing anywhere. Everyone vapes, mom, okay?” _

_ “But not you,” his mother wept. “You were so sweet and obedient… you are! You’re so smart and talented, honey… I can’t see you ruining your life like this…” _

_ “Your mother’s beyond hurt, Josh,” his dad said softly.  _

_ “Well, she shouldn’t be. I literally just told her that-” _

_ “Aunt Min in Korea said she’ll take you in,” Mrs. Hong said earnestly, now wiping her tears. “We’ve already talked to her, she said that they’ve just sent off Yoongi to college and they’ve got no kids around-” _

_ “Mom! What? I’m not going to Korea!” _

_ “Yes you are,” his mother said firmly, her composure regained. “You need to fix this problem and taking a year or two of school there will be perfect to iron out these… flaws.” _

_ Joshua scoffed, crossing his arms. “Flaws.”  _

_ “Yes, flaws.” Mr. Hong cleared his throat. “Joshua, you’re going.” _

_ “Not for senior year! I have to retake my SAT again and do applications,” Joshua said desperately, even though he knew that wasn’t his plan for this year. Perhaps the thought of his studies would convince his parents to let him stay. No way in hell was he going to Korea. He barely even spoke Korean. He certainly didn’t act like one. “You know, I need to get a better score on the SAT! So I was thinking I’ll take it in a month so that I can do my applications to-” _

_ “You’ll study and take the CSAT with your classmates this November,” his mother said firmly. _

_ “Mom!” Joshua felt tears burning, and turned to his dad. “Dad, tell her! I can’t live in Korea for a year!” _

_ His dad shook his head, lips pursed. “We’ve been tolerant of this behavior for too long, Josh. The disrespect, the talking back, the yelling, the cursing, and now it’s crossed the line. I can handle some teenage angst and disrespect but drugs are unacceptable.” _

_ “Aunt Min is such a good parental figure,” his mother said. “Maybe she can help with what we failed at.” _

_ “I’m not going!” Joshua yelled. He knew he’d be in trouble for raising his voice like this.  _

_ But he’d rather they yelled at him, rather that than sat calmly and watched him lose his temper. _

_ “I’m not going to go!” Joshua said loudly, tears streaming down his cheeks as he stood and stormed for the staircase. “You can’t make me leave! I’m not leaving!” _

“Jisoo?” 

Joshua blinked, coming out of his reverie to hear Aunt Min knocking at the door. “Yes?” he asked, adopting the obedient sweet Jisoo voice he’d crafted on the long miserable plane ride here.

“You have a friend waiting downstairs!” 

“He’s here?” Joshua whispered, glancing at his reflection again and running a hand through his hair to mess it up slightly. 

He opened his door and rushed past Aunt Min before she’d criticize the outfit, calling out that he’d ‘catch breakfast later’ and hurrying downstairs to find Jeonghan politely waiting in his foyer, the sweet-faced gentle boy wearing his uniform perfectly, soft white-blonde hair fluttering in the wake of his entrance into the house. 

“Hey, let’s go,” Joshua said, stepping off the staircase.

Jeonghan’s eyes were so big you could find the moon in them. “Your uniform-”

“Oh, this?” Joshua glanced down, giving the collar another careless flick. “This is American style. We’ll be late, come on.” 

Jeonghan was marveling at his outfit the entire way to school, and Joshua felt good.

He thought that perhaps he’d pinpointed why he was now intent on ruining Seungcheol’s happiness- because Seungcheol was the epitome of the boy Joshua’s parents had thought  _ he _ was. And Joshua hated those people, the people so happy and content and not having a single problem in their lives. The people that were always top of their class and were always dating someone just as popular and good looking, the people that everyone and their parents loved. Yes, Choi Seungcheol was exactly that kind of person. Goody two shoes, good for nothing-

“What’s this?” Jeonghan cheeped, pulling at the tail of the bandana still tied around Joshua’s arm.

“More America style,” Joshua replied, slinging his arm around Jeonghan’s shoulders with a smirk. “So, your boyfriend’s a lacrosse guy, huh?”   
“Yes,” Jeonghan said distractedly, still looking around at Joshua’s arm around his body.

“That’s interesting. I used to play.”

“Really?” Jeonghan’s eyes shined with interest.

“Yeah. MVP back at home. Most Valuable Player- the acronym makes more sense in English.” Joshua winced at the limitations of Korean, frustrated also with his lack to speak as quickly as he would normally. “Anyway, does the team here do tryouts? It’s barely the first month of school, they can’t’ve done it yet.”

“Done them yet,” Jeonghan corrected him. “And I’m pretty sure you can ask Seungcheol when they are! He’d be happy to have you on the team. You should try out for tennis too.”

“Why?”

“I’m the team captain.”

“You?” Joshua choked, looking the skinny boy up and down. “Wouldn’t the ball hitting you make you fall over?”

“I’m good, okay!” Jeonghan nudged him playfully, glancing ahead at the stadium. The smile drained off his face and he nudged Joshua again, escaping his arm’s hold. “There’s Cheol.”

Seungcheol was leaning against the archway leading into the stadium, holding his crosse, fiddling with the net-weave scoop. He wasn’t smiling either. 

Jeonghan and Seungcheol seemed to be locked in some sort of silent staring battle, and Joshua hoped it was about him. 

Joshua shot Seungcheol a lazy grin as they neared. “Hello!”

“Hello, hyung,” Seungcheol corrected, his eyes void of emotion as he tugged Jeonghan towards him. “That’s what we do around here.”

“Sorry,  _ hyung _ .” Joshua bit his tongue to keep the sardonic tone out of his voice. “Anyways, Jeonghan walked me to your game. We had such a fun conversation.”

“Did you?” Seungcheol was glaring at him now.

Jeonghan squished Seungcheol’s cheeks between his hand, pressing a kiss to his lips. “Good luck baby!” He glanced between them, seemingly clueless, and then- “Oh! Joshua wants to try out for the team.”

“Does he now,” Seungcheol answered, still staring at Joshua.

“Yeah! He said he was… some English acronym- when he lived in America! It sounded good.” 

“Well, we are looking for a third offensive player,” Seungcheol said carefully. “Our third offense boy is leaving the team to focus on school. He’s on two week notice, so I can give you a-” Seungcheol let his crosse fall, catching it at the last second when it was two inches from Joshua’s face. “-private tryout.” He tried to pull his crosse back towards him, but was stopped by Joshua’s hand still gripping the metal pole from where he’d caught it quickly before it slapped his face. 

“I’d like that very much, hyung,” Joshua said sweetly, releasing the shaft and letting Seungcheol yank the stick back. 

Seungcheol stared at Joshua for a few more seconds. “I’m going to go and get the team ready. Han, don’t sit anywhere too sunny. I don’t want you getting faint. It’s hot today.”

“Okay!” Jeonghan chirped. “I’m gonna go introduce Joshua to our friends. Come on, Shua!” 

Jeonghan began walking off, evidently believing that Joshua was right behind. Joshua, however, had leaned in until he was at an intimidating distance to Seungcheol, whose eyes were narrowed with suspicion. 

“Don’t worry about Jeonghannie,” Joshua smirked, seeing how Jeonghan’s nickname on his lips riled the older boy. “He’s only going be fainting from one thing, you know what I mean?”

Seungcheol looked as if he was going to punch him, but Joshua skipped away before that could happen.

“What’s going on?” Jeonghan asked as Joshua rejoined him a distance away. Seungcheol was still watching them, clutching the lacrosse shaft so hard that if it wasn’t made of metal it’d probably be snapped in two. 

Joshua turned back one last time, finger-gunned Seungcheol with a grin as Jeonghan led him off. “Nothing. Just wishing your boyfriend good luck on the game he’s just started.”

“But they haven’t started the game yet,” Jeonghan said, looking confused.

Joshua ruffled Jeonghan’s hair, feeling Seungcheol’s eyes burn twin holes in his back. “A very different kind of game, Jeonghannie hyung. Don’t worry about it.” 

•

The car was silent.

Mingyu glared out of the window, his arms folded tightly over his chest.

“You’re old enough to sit in the passenger seat, you know,” Namjoon called from the driver’s seat. “And you’re definitely tall enough, too.”

“Yes, I know,” Mingyu replied irritably. “Thanks.” 

Namjoon sighed as they stopped at a light, yielding to traffic before pulling through the left turn. “Mingyu, did I say something last night?” 

“No.” 

“I really didn’t mean it. Laughing about chemistry.”

“Yeah.”

“Then why are you so upset? You’re acting like a five year old that got their toy taken away.”

Mingyu sighed. “You won’t get it. Just drive.” 

Namjoon bit the inside of his cheek. “I just want to know why you’re angry.”

“I’m not mad at you.”

“You clearly are.”

“It’s not your fault.”

“I know it’s not, but I still feel like I’m the problem-”

“Hyung, why didn’t you tell me?” Mingyu’s voice broke.

“Tell you what?” Namjoon turned onto the expressway.

“When dad died.” 

Namjoon sighed. “Mingyu, this again…”

“None of you told me,” Mingyu said, his tone beyond accusatory. “Ma,  _ halmeoni _ , you. Why didn’t you say anything? You called me, like you always did on Friday evenings. And if I did the math right- which I usually don’t but I think I did this time- the date you called me was  _ three days _ after the date I see whenever I visit dad’s grave. You called me three days after our dad got  _ killed _ in war and all we talked about was stupid school. You let me talk about Soonyoung hyung’s musical audition when you were sitting there knowing that dad was gone-”

“Mingyu, we wanted to wait until you could understand-!” 

“I was in sixth grade when he died!” Mingyu yelled, his eyes burning with tears. “I was in sixth grade and you didn’t tell me for  _ two whole damn years! _ Two years of you and ma visiting me and pretending everything was fine, pretending dad was going to come home soon-”

“You were already struggling with school and your dyslexia, alright, we’d be mad to tell you something like that-”

“Maybe you should’ve! Didn’t you think about how that’d screw me up later? You finally told me at the same time that Wonwoo hyung and Soonyoung hyung were falling out, don’t you have any idea how hard it was for me then? And you just went running off to the states and left me here-”

“You’re doing fine now!”

“Well, not like you’d know, now that you go to some smart people school across the whole world, leaving me with  _ halmeoni, _ who hates me because she had to live with her son’s death in silence for two years because of  _ her stupid grandson who couldn’t understand anything _ !”

Namjoon exhaled shakily. “Just shut up, Mingyu. Shut up, okay? Let me drive.” 

Mingyu threw himself back into his seat- he’d been leaning forward, straining against his seatbelt in his frustration. He crossed his arms again and glared out of the window, hating how pretty the sky looked today.

A painful lump rose in Mingyu’s throat and no matter how hard he swallowed it just stayed there. He knew Namjoon was glancing at him through the rearview mirror. He did not care.

Mingyu’s phone vibrated in his pocket, and he pulled it out after a few moments of debating who was intent on making his day worse.

It was from Wonwoo, and simply read: 

_ Hey, I know you wanted to hang out after visiting your mom, but Soonyoung called me over today. Not sure what’s going on but I’m tutoring him all day apparently, from what I can understand from his text. Heading to his house now. Sorry. _

Mingyu smiled sarcastically down at his phone, typing viciously.

_ Great to hear, hyung. Thanks a lot. _

It indicated Wonwoo typing again, but Mingyu silenced the chat and shoved his phone back in his pocket, wondering if today could get any worse. 

Soon they pulled off the expressway and into Anyang’s streets, moving through the city and into quieter streets.

“Have you visited ma since I’ve left for school back in August?” Namjoon questioned as he parked the car outside a large three-story house with a pretty wraparound porch, the boards painted a soft blue color that melded beautifully against the white siding.

“No.” Mingyu replied quietly, still staring at the meticulously done paint job.

Mingyu’s father had painted it before he’d left, every summer. It’d been redone each year, since before Mingyu was born and every summer of his childhood. And then Mingyu’s dad had left, and now he would never paint it again, so every summer Mingyu and Namjoon recoated it painstakingly, because those colors belonged to their dad. 

Like the clouds and sky, First Sergeant Kim had always said. 

Mingyu’s father had always painted with him when he was little. When Namjoon, Mingyu’s mother’s favorite, would spend afternoons curled up in her lap reading classics and fables hidden away within the silky canopies of the master bedroom, locked away in the warm and stuffy master bedroom. 

Mingyu had never liked that bedroom, because the dark burgundy furniture and soothing, Victorian style of his mother’s preference always made him feel suffocated. So he preferred the wide, arching living room, with its pretty stained glass windows decorated with angels and cherubs. Mingyu never liked classics either, because they were dull and slow and not magical at all. He preferred his father’s stories to the fables his mother would read Namjoon all the time. 

Saturday afternoons when Mrs. Kim and Namjoon disappeared, Mingyu’s father would scoop his six year old into his arms, setting the little boy in his lap as they spread newspapers around the floor and painted and painted upon canvases as the windows remained open, the fumes drifting out and being replaced with summer breeze and the sound of birds. 

And when Mingyu eventually tired of painting, when his little fingers hurt from holding the brush for so long, he’d droop into his father’s arms and listen to stories of the war, asking sleepily about how his father attained the scar along his arm, or the paler one along his jaw, and listen and listen to the stories his father always had, drifting off to the feeling of his dad gently stroking through his hair, to the sound of the birds and the blue skies streaked with white clouds outside. 

Mingyu had missed painting with his dad the most when he’d left the three story house for his grandmother’s similarly large place in Seoul. Because in the six months between Mingyu moving out and his dad’s departure to the middle east, those visits had been so short that there hadn’t been time for impromptu painting sessions. And at ten, Mingyu knew his strict grandmother wouldn’t have thought it proper for him to be curled up in his dad’s lap. This didn’t stop him from wondering if Namjoon, then fourteen, was still reading with their mother at the house in Anyang, in those now peaceful and quiet evenings now that loud and chaotic Mingyu wasn’t there anymore. 

The house in Anyang. That was what was it had become after First Sergeant Kim had died. Not home. Just another place.

Mingyu wasn’t sure where home was anymore.

“Coming?” Namjoon asked as he opened the door, exiting the car. “I can’t wait to see ma.” 

“Yeah.” Mingyu stared outside, stared at the house, before mustering his strength and opening the car door, getting out as slowly as he could. 

The house smelled as it always did, a saccharine honey scent that his mother had started using after the funeral. Mingyu supposed she had started at that time, of course; seeing as he hadn’t been in attendance at the funeral, blissfully innocent, he had no idea when she’d started using the incense. Those two years after his dad’s death, two years of him being in the dark, he hadn’t stepped foot in the Anyang house- not out of animosity or anything. He’d just never been invited back. His mother and Namjoon came to visit, and Namjoon called him on the weekends, yes, but it seemed the Anyang house was not craving his visitation. And after the news had been revealed? Mingyu refused to visit. He must’ve entered this house thrice in the last few years- he’d preferred to stay outside even when painting the porch with Namjoon.

“Ma?” Namjoon called, and Mingyu’s heart panged as his mother came down the staircase, Mrs. Kim frail and weak, wrapped in a robe that highlighted how thin she’d gotten in the last year. 

“Namjoon-ah,” Mrs. Kim said happily, embracing her first son. Mingyu stood frozen where he was, feeling like an imposter. An intruder in his own supposed home, on his own supposed family.

Seungkwan’s words from yesterday echoed in his mind, and he took a deep breath. “Hello, ma.”

Mrs. Kim glanced over, slowly making her way past Namjoon and to him. “Mingyu-ah.” 

She hugged him too, holding on slightly longer. As if trying to say sorry. She’d been trying to apologize for three years. 

Mingyu held her, painfully aware of how much smaller she seemed- how much he’d grown since last year. They hadn’t come back to paint this past summer, so Mingyu had gone a long time without seeing or talking to the woman who was responsible for his miserable presence on this earth.

“You’ve grown so tall,” Mrs. Kim said softly.

Mingyu remained silent. Namjoon was watching them, a soft and fond look in his gaze.

Mrs. Kim slowly pulled away, and Mingyu was shocked to see the wan, tired look in his mother’s eyes. He understood why his grandmother was taking care of him. It was no secret that his mother hadn’t been the same since his father had died, but he hadn’t known how out of control she was now. 

“Just like your father,” Mrs. Kim whispered, reaching up to caress his cheek. “You look just like him.” 

Mingyu stared at the floor instead. He hated hearing that. He hadn’t made enough out of himself to be given that kind of praise, that kind of recognition.

“Ma, let me make us some tea,” Namjoon said kindly, and his mother glanced back at the older boy. Mingyu took this opportunity to observe the graying streaks of hair in her ponytail. 

“That would be nice,” Mrs. Kim said wistfully, looking back at Mingyu with such a pained expression in her eyes. “Come now, Gyu-ah,” she added softly, reaching up again to put a hand on his shoulder. 

Mingyu’s eyes burned with tears at the familiarity in her voice, and bent his head again, following her to the kitchen, trying his hardest not to look at the living room on the way there. The living room where, if his mother hadn’t had a fit of madness in the last year, the paintings would still be hanging.

Namjoon was already at the stove when Mingyu arrived, glancing around. He didn’t know his way around here, which was ironic- kitchens and dining rooms were known as the most intimate rooms of a family household.

“Get a spoon, Gyu,” Namjoon said, easily flicking the stove on. 

“I don’t know where the cutlery’s kept,” Mingyu replied, sitting down and keeping his mouth shut.  _ Maybe if you’d invited me back after what happened, I’d still know my way around the kitchen of my family home like any of my friends do. Oh, right, my friends don’t have screwed up families. _

His mother gently stroked Mingyu’s hair, sitting down next to him. “You’ve grown quiet, honey.”

“As you wished I would, so I did,” Mingyu answered.

A tense silence followed.

“Has your nurse been coming normally?” Namjoon questioned.

Mrs. Kim smiled. “Yes. She’s more of an in-house help than a nurse at this point, just reminds me to take my medicines for my head, is all… cleans here and there, helps me get some things from the laundry room, and then goes… usually comes in the mornings.”

And then Namjoon began a long-winded anecdote about a fascinating book he’d read in one of his classes, because the two of them were just like that- they were always like that. Mother and son, best friends, bonding over entire worlds of stories that were too long or convoluted for Mingyu to keep straight. He had to admit that he’d tried, yes- he had, in several moments of jealousy of watching his brother bond with his mom. But he’d never been able to keep the words straight on the page back then, and by the time that he mastered a gradual control over his dyslexia he had no interest in earning her approval, at least not outwardly.

“I’m going to…” Mingyu trailed off when he realized nobody was listening, and decided to just slip out of the room. 

The grand spiraling staircase he’d seen his mother descend just minutes later now seemed more intimidating as he stood in front of it, slowly putting his foot on the first step and scaling it, gazing around at the family portraits dating back a few generations as he climbed to the third floor, skipping the second floor- that had always been his parents’ suite and Namjoon’s bedroom. 

Mingyu’s bedroom was at the end of the hallway of the third floor, a quaint little room with a terrace that would show the stars.

He slowly opened the door and stepped inside, surprised by how much smaller everything seemed. The room itself felt as if it’d shrunk, but he knew it was just the fact that he’d grown a lot since he was ten years old. 

Mingyu disregarded the room, crossing instead to the terrace door and opening it, stepping out onto the railed balcony and smiling as he noticed the two chairs sitting where they always did.

Mingyu sat down in his, glancing at the other one before looking up at the sky, at his dad.

The hallway of the third floor was taken up with office rooms and strategy rooms, the First Sergeant’s officers and men often trooping into their home and up to the study rooms to discuss methods and strategies. Mrs. Kim had hated that. Mingyu had heard his parents arguing about it sometimes, for his room was above theirs- arguing that the officers in their house made Namjoon shy and scared.

Mingyu’s father had pointed out that his men were very quiet and didn’t bother anyone, simply came to talk and gain advice before leaving. Mingyu remembered laying curled up in bed and smiling to himself as he played with tiny soldier figurines.

His dad’s friends always loved him. He’d sit in on their meetings, sit in his dad’s lap and play mindlessly with the little horses and tanks that they’d put to the side, his little sound effects the tension-breaker in the room when everyone’s faces were grave or dull or helpless. Sometimes, they even asked him what they thought he should do- which was sweet, but rather useless seeing as he only had imagination and no real expertise. But Mingyu remembered sitting up in his father’s lap and clearing his throat like his dad did, earning a laugh as he leaned over the table, then, being too short, crawled on top of it and began moving the figures around. 

The men probably had come here one more time after his dad left for the sky, to wish his mother and Namjoon their condolences. Where were they now? Had they departed after his dad?

Mingyu stood up, making his way back into the bedroom and out into the hallway, carefully easing open the door to the strategy room that’d been used the most.

It looked just how he remembered, except everything had been blanketed in a fine layer of dust. Six years worth of it, he supposed. He had no doubt that his mother wouldn’t step foot in here after his dad was gone, nor let any of her help do so either.

Mingyu slowly walked around the table, gazing at the miniature battlefield laid out, his eyes scanning every position, every soldier and horse and tank and cannon. 

He hadn’t seen this diagram, he supposed, because it had evolved at a meeting during those six months between his departure from the Anyang house and his father’s departure to war. 

Mingyu slowly sat down in his father’s old chair, leaning onto the table and placing his chin on his arms, until he was at eye level with the tiny figurines.

Mindlessly, because there was nothing better to do and he didn’t want to sit for tea with those two downstairs, his slender fingers reached out and picked a soldier up, moving it down the field. This counter exchanged with another one moving back, then a horse retreating, followed by a tank approaching…

And so Mingyu played war chess for an hour or so, an hour of stolen time in which he could pretend it was ten years ago and a meeting had just ended, and his father was working off steam by walking around the small room and he was free to play with the toys now that they’d written down all their diagrams and everyone had left.

_ His father knelt next to him, watching him with adoration. “What’re you doing, Gyu-ah?”  _

_ “Saving you,” Mingyu would reply softly, his wide doe eyes focused on the board, lips pouting as he focused.  _

_ First Sergeant Kim chuckled, gently sweeping his son’s fringe off his forehead. “Saving me?” _

__ _ Mingyu indicated the soldier sitting atop a horse. “That’s you, dad.” _

_ “I see,” his father would reply fondly. “Thanks for saving me, lieutenant.”  _

_ “You’re welcome,” Mingyu would reply solemnly, knocking another soldier over. “I’ll never fail you, dad.” _

“I’m sorry, dad,” Mingyu whispered, tears burning in his eyes as he watched the figurine saddled on the horse. “I’m sorry I couldn’t save you. I’m sorry I failed you.” 

And that was where Namjoon found him another hour later, asleep with dried tear tracks painted down his cheeks, clutching the stupid figurine as if it could fix anything.

Mingyu felt its weight in his pocket as he hugged his mother goodbye, as he climbed back into the car and, feigning tiredness, leaned his forehead against the window and closed his eyes, his hand back in his pocket and clutching his father’s figurine as the Anyang house was left behind for another few months, the brilliant blue sky and pretty clouds stirring a storm inside him.

If Namjoon caught sight of the tears dripping into Mingyu’s lap, he didn’t say anything. 

•

“Three cheers for Pledis High!” 

Joshua laughed, raising his soda cup along with everyone else as they then drank. 

It was an hour after the game and its conclusive victory for Pledis, and they’d all clustered into a small shop for lunch- Seungcheol’s treat. 

There was quite a lot of people here, and all of them seemed to know each other somehow- Jihoon, Junhui, Minghao, Hansol, Chan, Seungkwan, Seokmin, and himself, Seungcheol and Jeonghan. 

Joshua had no idea how all these people kept each other straight, and widened his eyes with disbelief when Jeonghan told him there were three more people missing.

“Three  _ more _ ?”

“Yeah. I think Soonyoung’s grounded, Wonwoo’s tutoring him. And Mingyu’s visiting his mother in Anyang- it’s a city-town fifteen minutes away.”

“Oh,” Joshua nodded. “His dad works overseas?”

“His dad isn’t around anymore,” Jeonghan said softly.

Joshua bit his lip. “Oh. I’m so sorry.” 

Seungcheol leaned over from Jeonghan’s other side. “What’s going on?”

“Just telling Shua about Mingyu’s dad.”

“Oh.” Seungcheol nodded slowly, watching Joshua. “Yeah. Well, it’s not really our story to tell, so I don’t think Jeonghan should say anything more about it. Mingyu usually only tells his close friends.”

Seungcheol and Jeonghan were staring at each other again, and Joshua felt mildly awkward to be sitting next to them. “Yeah, no problem. I don’t want to pry.”

Seungcheol made a doubtful face at that, reaching forward and flipping the meat grilling in front of them. “Yeah.”

“So when am I gonna meet your parents?” Jeonghan asked Joshua curiously.

Joshua chuckled. “You probably won’t. They didn’t come with me.”

Seungcheol was still adjusting the meat, but he knew that the valedictorian was listening. So then-

“They sent me here for help.” Joshua lowered his voice, making it more mysterious. 

“Help for what?” Jeonghan asked, leaning in, his innocent eyes shining with curiosity.

“Drugs,” Joshua breathed, watching Jeonghan’s face change with worry, then surprise, then amazement.

“They do that in America?”

“Oh yes,” Joshua said, sitting back in his seat. “Everyone uses vapes and everyone’s parents are scared of vapes. And some parents- like mine- have the lucky option of shipping off their vapers to their home countries for some ‘real education and ‘disciplining’.”

“So you’re a druggie?” Seungcheol blurted out. 

Joshua smiled sweetly. “Easy, hyung. I’m telling Jeonghan, my close friend.” A fake laugh. “I’m joking. And no, I’m not a druggie. In America, that has a very different meaning. Vapes are… commonplace?” Joshua shrugged, not knowing a better word.

Seungcheol looked scandalized that he was letting Jeonghan sit next to such a horrible person. Joshua was thoroughly enjoying this.

Jeonghan was still watching him, eyes wide. “So what does it feel like?”

“Han!” Seungcheol hissed.

“It feels like-”

“Don’t tell him!” Seungcheol said angrily. “Why does he need to know?”

“Cheol, be quiet, let him talk,” Jeonghan said impatiently. 

Joshua cleared his throat. “It feels really… refreshing. I’m not advertising drug use, but… at least for me, it relieved a lot of stress. Kind of made me forget about my problems. Also…” he allowed a stupid smile to cross his features. “The flavors were super good.”

Seungcheol dropped a piece of meat in his place. “Eat. We don’t have vapes in Korea, but we do have good food.”

That was probably the nicest thing the older boy had said to him.

Joshua picked up his chopsticks, holding them wrong on purpose, and pointed at Seungcheol, who looked affronted. “ _ Muchas gracias _ ,” he said in Spanish, knowing that would just infuriate Seungcheol further.

“We don’t point chopsticks at people,” Jeonghan told Joshua seriously, completely believing it was a simple accident.

“Oh my god,” Joshua said, faking flustered embarrassment. “I’m so sorry, hyungs.” He dipped his head in their direction, then busied himself with his food, enjoying the delicious meat and paying no mind to Seungcheol’s glare or Jeonghan’s honey dripping eyes.

This would be fun.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> could i ever NOT write a heavy chapter? 
> 
> i cried so hard writing mingyu’s part, especially the painting bit.
> 
> i know there are no main characters mentioned in this chapter, it’s just a link between yesterday and the next chapter! stay with me oke? 
> 
> sorry for the heavy content :// happy cute soonwoo and junhao are coming to visit next chapter so keep reading! 
> 
> hmm today i want you guys to comment what you think is going down at soonyoungs house. (or cry about mingyu’s backstory in the comments bc i love those too XD) 
> 
> tell someone you love them today! i love all of u <3  
> -mingyuwu


	17. 15. intimate sessions and spontaneous decisions

“Wonwoo!” 

Wonwoo was pulled into the Kwon family home by Soonyoung’s beaming mother.

“It’s been so long since we’ve seen you,” she said happily, already patting down his shoulders. “You’ve gotten thinner still, ah…” 

“I’ve just gotten taller, Mrs. Kwon. I’m still eating well.” Wonwoo smiled at her. 

“Alright, well come in, come in. Soonyoung’s upstairs. I’ll bring you two some fruit.”

Wonwoo stepped past the threshold and took in the house, which hadn’t changed much in the last few years.

“You remember where his room is, right?” Mrs. Kwon asked.

“Yes. Thanks, Mrs. Kwon.”

Wonwoo shouldered his bag and walked upstairs, knocking on the door of the first room on the right.

“Get inside,” Soonyoung called from within, and Wonwoo turned the knob and stepped inside Soonyoung’s room.

“God, this place has just spiraled downwards since I’ve left,” Wonwoo joked, dropping his bag with familiar comfort as he looked around the room. The walls were clustered with girl group posters, old retro decorations strung up between the pictures of Red Velvet members. The floor was, as usually found in a teenage boy’s room, littered with laundry and random junk. Soonyoung had also repainted his room an even more vivid shade of orange since Wonwoo had last visited. It nearly hurt to look at. 

“Oh, shut up.” Soonyoung rolled over on his bed, putting his phone down. “Welcome.”

“Grounded, huh?”

“Yeah. Sucks ass. I tried going out today because of Cheol hyung’s lacrosse game but my dad blew up at me about not studying enough.” Soonyoung rolled his eyes. “Apparently he’s friends with Jun’s dad now because of business or something, and last night he was being super salty about me not being as scholarly as Junhui.” 

“Yikes.”

“Yeah. And this morning, I thought he already left for his Saturday morning business meetings but apparently not, because he caught me at the door and practically grounded me indefinitely because the practice CSATs are coming up for our year and he’s literally going to kill me if I get marks below a 90. And then he decided to leave.”

Wonwoo winced. “Oh no.”

“And I can’t possibly be alone on a day like this,” Soonyoung said, gesturing outside. “So I told my mom I was going to call you over to study.”

Wonwoo’s jaw dropped. “We’re not studying?”

“Hell to the no,” Soonyoung scoffed. “She knows you’re tutoring me and that’s the only reason she even believed that lie. Get out your textbooks, we’re going to place them around here so if she comes in- which she will- we’ll look convincing.”

Wonwoo grumbled as he dragged all his calculus things onto the bed, then hesitated.

Lying on Soonyoung’s bed with him… with a person that one week ago had still been his sworn enemy…

“Lay down,” Soonyoung said impatiently, pulling up Netflix. This was too reminiscent of those sleepovers. Much too reminiscent-

Wonwoo gulped and did so, painfully aware of how much taller he’d grown since the last time he’d flopped onto Soonyoung’s sheets- his feet were dangling off the edge.

That made him laugh, and Soonyoung looked around at the sound of his chuckle. “What?” he followed Wonwoo’s gaze. “Oh. You should see Mingyu,” Soonyoung snickered, turning his attention back to the screen.

“What do you mean?” 

“He’s like, half off the bed. Whenever he visits.”

“Mingyu visits?” Wonwoo asked, accepting the earbud Soonyoung held out to him.

“Yeah, sometimes. Soccer hang outs and stuff.”

Wonwoo posed a notebook in front of them as Soonyoung pulled up an informational video, switching the tab back to Netflix. 

“There. We’re all set if she comes in.”

Wonwoo chuckled. “What’re we watching?”

“What’d piss you off the most?”

Wonwoo nudged his shoulder. “Not watching anything at all after you’ve already called me here for time-waste.”

“Then we won’t,” Soonyoung grinned, yanking his earbud out.

Wonwoo sighed. “Why are you like this? Why’re you wasting my Saturday like this? You don’t have any plan for what to do and you’re dragging me down your hellhole.”

The doorknob turned and Soonyoung switched the tab so quickly that Wonwoo nearly laughed.

“I cut some peaches for you two,” Mrs. Kwon said earnestly, placing the fruit platter between them. Soonyoung and Wonwoo exchanged a look and thanked her as she left again, irritatingly leaving the door open a crack.

Soonyoung got up to close it as Wonwoo sat up and crossed his legs, gingerly biting into a slice of the sweet yet bitter fruit. It reflected how he felt. 

Soonyoung fell onto the bed again, this time disturbingly close to Wonwoo, rolling onto his back so he was staring up at him. “It feels so weird to see you in here.”

Wonwoo kept eating. He didn’t know what to say. 

“I mean,” Soonyoung continued. “I didn’t think you’d actually come today, because I was super last notice.”

Oh. That’s what he’d meant. 

“I thought we were going to study,” Wonwoo said, dabbing peach juice off his lip. “You know me. Never give up a chance.”

“Yeah. Shouldn’t have misled you, I guess.” Soonyoung ran a hand through his hair, and then exhaled. “Fuck. Okay. I didn’t mean it like that. I meant… I never thought I’d see you in here again.” 

Shit. So Wonwoo had been right.

“What do you mean?” Wonwoo asked cautiously, another peach slice in hand ready if the conversation got too awkward.

“I mean…” Soonyoung exhaled again. “After the fight. It was… it was pretty heavy.”

Wonwoo was silent for a moment. And then,

“Do you want to talk about it?”

Soonyoung glanced over at him. “You do?”

Wonwoo shrugged. “I guess.”

Soonyoung stretched out. “Then yeah. I guess we can.”

Wonwoo gazed at him, lost in his memories of that day. 

_“You’re not coming?” Soonyoung’s voice echoed through the phone. “Won, it’s opening night!”_

_“I can’t,” Wonwoo said, and it was a lie. It wasn’t that he really had homework. But if he was honest, he had less than negative interest in-_

_“I’m the main lead!”_

_“I know.”_

_“You promised, Won.”_

_“Something came up.”_

_“Please, Won, I’m so nervous, I’ll feel better if you’re here.” Soonyoung did sound stressed, his voice was straining slightly, and he was breathing faster than usual._

_“I’m sorry,” Wonwoo said, and he did mean it. “I really can’t.”_

_“Mingyu and all the boys are coming. I think that Seungkwan even convinced Minghao to come.”_

_“Isn’t that enough?”_

_“But I want you to come! You’re my best friend, Won! This is our last year of middle school, and you’ve always been too busy to come to my shows, but can’t you just-”_

_“I have to study. That’s why I can’t come,” Wonwoo admitted. “I have to do well on my finals.”_

_“This again?” He heard Soonyoung sigh, and then, “Please, Won, you spend all your time studying. You’re top of the class and two hours on a Friday night won’t kill your reputation. It’s thirty minutes before the show starts, please-”_

_“I have to study. Unlike you, I’m actually trying to get somewhere in the future,” Wonwoo snapped._

_Soonyoung was shocked into silence. “What?”_

_“You really think this- this acting or whatever- it’s going to get you anywhere in life?” Wonwoo scoffed. “Hyung, I know you’re passionate about it or whatever, but this is ridiculous. Your grades are lousy. You need to study more than I do, and you spend all your time prancing around on stage like a five year old.”_

_“Won, you know it’s not like that.”_

_“Well, I’m concerned for you, hyung,” Wonwoo said icily. “If you want to become successful or smart or anything- you can’t sing forever.”_

_“Won-”_

_“You do realize that aspiring artists are the people that end up homeless on the streets a few years after they leave college, right?” Wonwoo said calmly, thoughtlessly, carelessly. “You want to end up like that? Leech off of Gyu and me when you fail miserably?”_

_The line was silent. Wonwoo almost thought that Soonyoung had hung up, but if he listened closer he could hear other students echoing faintly through the line, probably lost in the confusion of the waiting room before the show._

_“Won,” Soonyoung said quietly. “Please? It’s the last musical of middle school. Your best friend’s the main lead. It’s one night.”_

_“This isn’t about the musical anymore, don’t you get it?” Wonwoo said irritably. “This is about you being an idiot and screwing up your life. You think I want to encourage that? Gods, hyung, I thought that you were joking when you said you wanted to become a singer. But now it sounds like you’ve kidded yourself into believing it.”_

_“Won,” Soonyoung said, and it sounded almost like a plea. “Won, I need you to be there. I need you to cheer for me. Just this one time.”_

_“If it means so much to you, you won’t need my support to do well,” Wonwoo replied simply, and hung up before Soonyoung could get a word in._

_Wonwoo thought that was the end of it. Just a silly argument, and everything would be fine after that. Yes, he and Soonyoung had been fighting a lot lately, but it had all been part of their teenage angst. Yes, this argument had been worse, and yes, Wonwoo had said some things a bit harsher than he’d meant, but the message and his feeling was the same. Everything would be fine._

_It was the furthest from that as it could get. The next morning, Soonyoung found him at school. Found was a kind word- accosted was more like it._

_“Jeon Wonwoo!”_

_The roar echoed through the hallway, and students all turned around, many flinching and dropping their things._

_Wonwoo startled- nobody yelled his name like that- and turned around to find Soonyoung glaring at him as he stormed down the hallway, his dark hair bouncing on his head with each step._

_Many sensitive students, sensing a fight, sidled from the corridor, but others creeped closer, hungry with the tension in the air._

_Mingyu was standing next to Wonwoo, and barely had time to peep, “What’s hyung so angry for?” before Soonyoung was standing in front of Wonwoo, glaring up at him, his eyes swollen and puffy._

_“Hyung?” Wonwoo asked confusedly._

_Soonyoung reached up and shoved him into the locker. Wonwoo felt his head connect with the metal. He heard students gasping and Mingyu letting out a little cry of fear, but regained his balance and, clutching his aching head, opened his eyes to glare at Soonyoung._

_“What the hell was that for?” Wonwoo shouted._

_“You ruined it!” Soonyoung yelled. “You ruined everything, Jeon!”_

_“What are you talking about?” Wonwoo demanded, massaging his head. Mingyu was standing behind Wonwoo now, looking scared. Soonyoung ignored the younger boy._

_“You and your stupid dialogues- do you think that’s what I wanted to hear before my opening stage?” Soonyoung shouted. “Do you have any idea how much it screwed me over last night?”_

_“I-”_

_“I forgot half my lines, Jeon! I forgot everything, I lost my head completely and nearly ruined the performance and it’s all your fault!”_

_“If you’re so bad at theater, maybe you should’ve picked something else to waste your time on!” Wonwoo yelled back, his voice nearly cracking with the strain of screaming so loudly. He had no idea why he was acting this way. He’d never as much as pushed another kid at school, nevermind getting in an actual fight._

_But Wonwoo was out of control now, now his blood rushed through his body and ignited him with a strong, burning flame that wanted to devour, wanted to burn and destroy-_

_“Oh right, I forgot!” Wonwoo added, tauntingly, mockingly, hating yet loving how derisive the words sounded on his lips. “You aren’t good enough at anything else to make a future out of it!”_

_“What did you say to me?” Soonyoung shouted, coming at Wonwoo again, and this time Wonwoo pushed him, and Soonyoung hit the floor because Wonwoo was angrier than he’d ever been before, and the look of pain on Soonyoung’s face as he held his wrist made Wonwoo’s heart pound double because oh gods he’d hurt someone and-_

_Soonyoung struggled to his feet, tears burning in his eyes as he clutched his wrist. “I just wanted my best friend to be there for me. I just wanted my best friend to smile at me from the audience for what could be my first- and last- lead performance.”_

_“Like you were there for me all those times I needed help studying,” Wonwoo snapped back._

_“Yeah?” Soonyoung glared at him. “Luckily for you, you’re the smart friend and we’re all too stupid to help you on the rare occurences your big brain can’t figure things out. Convenient, isn’t it?” he sneered. “Unfortunately, there’s plenty of people who can learn how to be smart. So what’re the chances you’ll even become a doctor, huh, Jeon? What if there’s people- wait for it- smarter than you? What’re you going to do then? Come leech off me?” Soonyoung smirked. “What? Hit a nerve?”_

_Wonwoo was dimly aware of how hard his breaths came, of how much he wanted to hit Soonyoung again as he heard his own words turned against him._

_“You’re one of a few class toppers,” Soonyoung added triumphantly. “I’m a star student of my department, already. What’ve you done successfully, Jeon? For you to think you’re so high and mighty to not come support your poor, stupid, talentless friend?”_

_Wonwoo was shaking now with the restraint-_

_“Oh, Won’s getting mad now?” Soonyoung cooed. “Won’s getting angry that hyung gave him a slap of reality, that Won’s not as smart as he thought, that in a room of A students he’s just another statistic, that in a hall of college applicants Won’s second best, or third best, or maybe at the very end of the list. Well, he deserves it, for being such a lousy friend, for putting his friend through a few hours of hell because of some stupid words that’ll probably become his friend’s insecurity in a few years.”_

_Soonyoung stalked closer. “You know what I think, Jeon?” His voice was so dangerously sweet, and Wonwoo didn’t know if Soonyoung perhaps had slipped on a performative mask or if this was truly the pent up stress of the last few weeks, the last few stupid angsty weeks in which they’d been arguing over small, small things for so long and now the dam was cracking and everything was flowing into the open._

_“You tell me,” Wonwoo said through gritted teeth, readying his fist._

_“I think that you’re so insecure in your intelligence that you’re going after me for having what you’ll never have because all you rely on is books,” Soonyoung breathed. “And you want to know what it is that I have that you never will?”_

_“Yeah?” Wonwoo demanded. “What is it?”_

_“Talent,” Soonyoung whispered, a smirk spreading on his lips seconds later. “Talent and a sprained wrist. And I have the second one instead of you, because unlike some people I wouldn’t hurt my friend to that extent.”_

_“You’re asking to be hurt more,” Wonwoo said in a rush, and then he was lost in his anger as he lurched forward, and Soonyoung twisted his wrist around a few times, ready to intercept-_

_Mingyu threw himself between them, his eyes shining with tears. “Hyungs, please-”_

_“Get out of the way, Gyu,” Soonyoung snarled._

_“You disgust me,” Wonwoo snapped to Soonyoung over Mingyu, who was trapped between them, his body trembling._

_“Yeah? Then screw off,” Soonyoung growled._

_“Fuck you,” Wonwoo replied with the most feeling he’d probably ever mustered in his life, grabbing Mingyu by the arm. “Come on, Mingyu, we’re leaving.”_

_Mingyu grasped at Soonyoung’s lapel momentarily, his cheeks streaked with tears, but Soonyoung stepped away, still glaring at Wonwoo._

_“Good luck running back to me when you fail in a few years,” Wonwoo snapped, wrapping his arm around Mingyu protectively. “Theater… theater my ass.”_

_“Yeah?” Soonyoung glowered. “Good luck beating out the thousands of people smarter than you. Aren’t doctors supposed to be compassionate and not heartless, cold people?”_

_Wonwoo nearly went for Soonyoung again, but Mingyu pulled at him, a near-silent sob escaping the younger boy’s lips._

_Wonwoo glanced at the trembling boy, and then, with a last derisive glare towards Soonyoung, put his arm around Mingyu and walked off, leaving a canyon between him and the boy still massaging his wrist._

“I- I actually don’t think I want to talk about it,” Wonwoo said abruptly, knowing it was a sharp change of thought.

Soonyoung blinked at him, and looked away. “Oh.” 

Wonwoo chose now to shove the peach slice in his mouth.

“How’s Jeongguk?” They were back to the polite, barely scraping the surface conversation now.

Wonwoo forced the peach down. “He’s good. Made loads of new friends. I’m glad he’s in high school now and I don’t need to bother too much about him. Not like he ever needed me, though-” Wonwoo paused for a laugh. “Jeongguk’s got more street sense than I do.” 

“That he does,” Soonyoung sat up, pulling his laptop back towards him. “I was gonna call Mingyu, you know, but yesterday you told me how Namjoon’s coming.”

“Yeah, I think they’re going to see Mrs. Kim today.”

Soonyoung winced. “How is he… about that? I don’t think he’d like to go back there so often… not after his dad… you know…”

Wonwoo sighed, crinkling the bedsheet between his fingers. “I don’t know if you know this in particular, and I’m not saying it to be vindictive or anything, but… you remember that day we fought?”

Soonyoung nodded, his eyes focused completely on Wonwoo. It made him feel strange.

“That was the same day… he found out. That evening.” Wonwoo took a shuddering breath. “I know you heard about his dad through Seungcheol or someone, I suppose- I mean, everyone in our old circle eventually knew- but… it was that day.”

“God,” Soonyoung said softly. “You’re serious?”

Wonwoo nodded miserably. “And we were so wrapped up in our own business, I don’t even know how well I comforted him when he called that night…”

Soonyoung was gazing at him still, lost in thought. “He knows that I know about his dad. But we never talked about it. By the time we were talking again…” Soonyoung shrugged. “Either he shoved it under the rug in his mind or he didn’t want to talk about it with me.”

“Mingyu does miss you, you know,” Wonwoo said quietly, tentatively.

“Yeah,” Soonyoung sighed. “I know… on Tuesday, I kind of blew up at you about it. But I know he misses me.”

“He says he misses us,” Wonwoo blurted out. “Like… us being friends.”

Soonyoung gazed at him. And then, so so so quietly, “Please don’t push it.”

Wonwoo picked up another peach slice, his cheeks burning. 

“Are you trying out for president?” 

“What?”

“Class president. Seungcheol needs a successor, you know.”

“I don’t know.” Wonwoo watched him carefully. “Mingyu bugged me about it but I told him I wasn’t going to. Who’d vote for me?”

“Mingyu.” Soonyoung considered. “I suppose I would. And all of our friends.”

“You’d vote for me?” Wonwoo grinned. “Seriously?”

Soonyoung shrugged. “Can’t think of anyone better.”

“I mean… do you think I’d be good?”

“Yeah. What does ‘can’t think of anyone better’ sound like to you?” Soonyoung tsked, opening the laptop again. “Hold on. Let me show you the resources. Maybe you should run. You’re already probably junior valedictorian, but they haven't announced first quarter grade ranks yet so we don’t know. You’ve been valedictorian for our year consistently, so I wouldn’t be surprised.”

Wonwoo stretched out next to Soonyoung, watching as he led him through the resources for people considering to run. 

Student body president of Pledis High was a prestigious position. Candidates would compete in elections and other events throughout their junior year, the winning candidate being announced at the end of the academic year. The next year, the then-senior would succeed the previous president and take over as the president of the entire school. Every year, the school would be wrapped up in campaign drama, which would slowly escalate until the end of the year. 

“So in conclusion, if you spend this year debating and participating in the class elections, you could be president next year,” Soonyoung finished nearly an hour later. “Campaign forms are due by next week, so if you turn it in you’ll be registered. It’s worth a shot, right?”

“Mm,” Wonwoo agreed sleepily, resting his chin on his arms. He wasn’t used to someone talking at him for so long.

“Will you really do it?” Soonyoung mused, scrolling down the page detailing the presidential campaign information. 

“Maybe I will,” Wonwoo hummed. “After all, it’s something to put on my college applications.”

“You’re going to have strong competition, though,” Soonyoung warned. “I heard Hwang Hyunjin is running.”

Wonwoo winced. “Not that bastard.”

Soonyoung arched an eyebrow. “Another enemy?”

Wonwoo grinned. “Not really. Just my constant first-rank competitor.”

Soonyoung laughed, and then his eyes grew wide. “I have an idea. You know your committee?”

“My what?” Wonwoo earned a tsk for this response.

“Jeon! Were you listening at all?”

“No,” Wonwoo said helplessly. “I was up really long last night. I’m exhausted.”

Soonyoung sighed, sitting up impatiently. “You get one committee to help you during the elections in junior year. One personal advisor, one press member to publicize your campaign, and a debate preparation helper. You get to keep these people as your campaign officers in senior year if you win, but you can add a few more people to your committee by that point, and you can change them along the way.” 

“Okay,” Wonwoo said cautiously. “And? Your point about ‘my committee’?”

“I can pay you back for all the tutoring sessions you’re going to give me! I’ll be your personal advisor. And next year I’ll be your vice president, like Seungcheol and Jeonghan.”

“You’re going to help my campaign?” Wonwoo choked. It wasn’t even the idea of Soonyoung helping him- it was the analogy of comparing the two of them to the devoted couple. Even if Soonyoung had meant it otherwise-

“I have to pay you back somehow. You can always kick me off if you don’t want me anymore,” Soonyoung snickered.

“But- but we’re not even friends,” Wonwoo said helplessly.

“So? That’s better. People can’t say I’m biased. 

“You’re supposed to be biased if you’re on my personal committee,” Wonwoo said exasperatedly.

“Oh right.” Soonyoung grinned. “It’ll be another performance for the great Kwon Soonyoung.”

Wonwoo rolled his eyes. “Alright.”

“Alright, what?”

“I need an extracurricular this year anyway,” Wonwoo ceded. “I’ll run, and you can advise me on my way to losing. It doesn’t matter if I win, though. I just have to show colleges that I did something this year besides sticking my face in books.”

“That’s my man,” Soonyoung clapped Wonwoo on the shoulder. “Want to try to escape my grounding to go and get some ramen or something? We can print out the official campaign registration forms at the library on the way, and leave it in the administrative drop mailbox in front of the school.”

Wonwoo raised an eyebrow. “Your mom’s going to let you go out?”

“She’s more lenient than dad. She lets me sneak out during groundings sometimes. Plus, I’ve just made an important commitment to something for a whole school year. Advising the great Jeon Wonwoo on his way to supreme excellence.”

“Are you sure we should even bother running?”

“Yeah. Seungcheol hyung did it, right? He had a two man team. And his man- his personal advisor- was _Jeonghan_.”

Wonwoo stifled a laugh. “You’re so mean. Didn’t Seungcheol hyung win by like three hundred votes, though?”

“Yeah. But you’re going to need more than one man at your side,” Soonyoung said seriously. “First off, I’m not good enough to be your one man. Secondly, you don’t have Choi Seungcheol’s crowd charisma. Third, you glare at everyone. You’re going to need a lot, and I mean a _lot_ , of help.”

Wonwoo rolled his eyes. “Thanks a lot.”

“You’re welcome. Let’s go sugar up my mom and get out of here. It’s too nice out to be stuffed up inside.”

They walked downstairs, where Mrs. Kwon was talking to some relatives on the phone, laughing loudly.

“Mom!” Soonyoung called, earning a glare and a finger to the lips. “Mom, we have to go out.”

Mrs. Kwon covered the receiver. “You’re grounded, young man.”

“No, mom, you don’t understand. Wonwoo’s just made the decision to run for class president and we have to go print out the forms at the library and I’m going to be his personal advisor and also we’re so hungry and want to go to that ramen shop-”

His mother raised a hand to cut him off. “Breathe.”

Soonyoung gave her a sheepish smile. “Right. Talking at a speed other people can understand.”

Mrs. Kwon nodded, surmising them. “Alright. You can go, just to the library and to lunch, and come straight back. It’s school related, so I think I can give it a pass. But don’t tell your father, alright?”

Soonyoung grinned. “Thanks.”

They bid Mrs. Kwon goodbye and hurried outside, to where Wonwoo had parked his dad’s Maserati.

“Damn!” Soonyoung gazed at the sleek black car as Wonwoo unlocked the doors. “I didn’t know you had this.”

“Dad bought it after we moved out, I’m borrowing it for today. That promotion was really good to us, we were able to get the new house and ma got a Lambo when dad bought the Maserati,” Wonwoo explained, getting into the driver’s seat. “Get in.” 

“You’re a good driver, right?”

“Just got my license before school started,” Wonwoo winked. “Been on it for two months without any violations, so.”

“Oh god.” Soonyoung buckled up, adjusting the passenger seat up higher. “I’m sure you’re better than Junhui, though.”

“Oh, don’t worry about that,” Wonwoo assured. “That kid is a catastrophe waiting to happen.”

They backed out into the street, Wonwoo smoothly accelerating out of the neighborhood a few turns later.

“My dad’s not letting me drive yet,” Soonyoung confessed, leaning back in his seat. “He said he’s scared I’m going to wreck the luxury Lexus.”

“But aren’t you past sixteen? Even Mingyu and the other sophomores started.”

“Yeah.” Soonyoung sighed. “He probably thinks I’m too immature.”

Wonwoo peeked at the clouds, which were gathering over Seoul and turning the sky grey. “Ugh… looks like it’s going to rain. And the sky one hour ago was so beautiful too.”

“Rain’s still good,” Soonyoung decided. “Are we going to the school library?”

“I was thinking of the one in town, it’s closer to the ramen place.”

“Can we eat first? I’m so hungry,” Soonyoung whined.

“Fine. But you’re paying.”

“Nuh-uh, Jeon, you’re paying.”

“I’m already paying for the expensive-as-hell gas for this car to take you to ramen, alright.”

“Point taken.”

They drove into town and parked outside a small ramen shop. Wonwoo checked the time as they got out of the car. “Do you think the lacrosse game’s over?”

“Yeah,” Soonyoung said, looking past him and into the shop.

“How’d you-” Wonwoo followed his gaze to see literally the entire old group- and a few new additions- sitting in a clustered group by one of the windows. “Oh no. Do you think we can still leave-”

“Too late,” Soonyoung said dryly as Seungkwan caught sight of them, waving madly and causing everyone to look out the window at where the pair stood on the sidewalk. 

“Right then,” Wonwoo said, sighing as he shoved the door open and entered, heading for the group.

“Soonyoung and Won hanging out together?” Seungcheol joked as they dragged over two more chairs.

“Apocalypse must be coming,” Jeonghan remarked, causing the boy next to him to burst into laughter. Wonwoo recognized him from yesterday in the parking lot- Joshua.

“Oh, right,” Seokmin said. “Some new faces for Soonyoung. Chan, introduce your friend-”

“This is Hansol, guys,” Chan said. “He goes to Pledis, actually he’s gone to school with us this whole time, like since elementary, and he’s my neighbor so I’ve known him forever. Minghao too.”

Hansol shot Minghao a finger-gun from across the table, which was met by an exasperated eye roll. “Have the unfortunate luck to be stuck on an apartment floor with those two,” Minghao said darkly, Junhui grinning at his comment.

“And this is Joshua,” Jeonghan said, gesturing to the wide-eyed boy. “He’s from America. Just got here. Hyung for you. He’s a senior.”

“Nice to meet you, hyung,” Soonyoung said politely, sitting down as Wonwoo did the same next to him.

“Eat with us, I’m paying. Anyways, spill the tea,” Seungcheol prodded as they began to help themselves. “Why are you two voluntarily hanging out?”

“We’re…” Wonwoo chuckled. “Literally were just studying.”

“Wonwoo’s-” Soonyoung began, clearly about to reveal Wonwoo’s campaign to the whole group. Wonwoo swiftly kicked him under the table. “Ow!”

Wonwoo glared at him.

“Wonwoo’s… really good at studying!” Soonyoung finished lamely.

Wonwoo rolled his eyes at this subpar attempt at concealment, deciding to just eat.

The table conversation was light and friendly and he felt himself settling slightly. Yes, this was fine. He tried not to watch Soonyoung too much (the two eldest kept grinning over at them) and just focused on having a good time.

By the time they’d finished eating and Seungcheol had paid the bill, thick storm clouds had gathered over the sky.

“We should all get home fast before the storms,” Seungcheol advised as the whole group headed out of the restaurant. “I can take Jeonghan in my car, but we’ve got to walk the ten minutes back to the school, I parked in the lot before the game and we walked all the way here-”

“We can take Seungkwan, Seokmin, and Joshua too, seeing as we all live in the same neighborhood,” Jeonghan suggested. Seungcheol shot him a look. “Oh, come on, we can’t let them get soaked.”

“Fine, let’s go,” Seungcheol said, slinging an arm around his boyfriend’s shoulders and gesturing for the other three to follow. 

“We’re gonna catch the city bus, actually,” Chan said. “Hansol and I are going back to our apartment building.”

“Want me to drive you?” Junhui suggested, slowly yet confidently. Wonwoo smiled at how fast the Chinese boy had improved. “I’m taking Minghao.”

“Nah, we like the bus,” the two youngest protested, already heading down the sidewalk to the closest city bus stop. Junhui shrugged, quickly interlacing his arm through Minghao’s. 

“Come on. I’ll take you home,” Junhui beamed. 

“God help me,” Minghao grumbled, but still let the older boy drag him off after Seungcheol’s group- evidently Junhui had left his Mercedes in the school parking lot too.

“Aren’t they bonding quickly?” Soonyoung asked Wonwoo.

Wonwoo shrugged. “They’re the only reminder of home for each other, aren’t they?” He caught sight of Jihoon standing unsurely nearby and scowled. He didn’t even know why the annoying, nosy boy had been at lunch with them. “Come on, hyung, let’s go. Library, remember?”

Soonyoung glanced over at Jihoon. “Can we take him?”

Jihoon looked over. “What?”

“Wonwoo can take you home with us. It looks like it’s going to rain soon-”

“I did not say I was going to,” Wonwoo muttered. “I don’t want him-”

Soonyoung stepped on his foot, evidently payback for Wonwoo kicking him. “Come on, Jihoon hyung.”

Gratefully, the smaller boy hurried after them into Wonwoo’s car.

“Well, you’re coming with us to the library now,” Wonwoo informed Jihoon as he pushed the gear into drive. “I’ve got things to take care of.” 

“Sure. Thanks for driving me.”

Wonwoo rolled his eyes and began driving.

“We’re going to the library for a very special reason,” Soonyoung told Jihoon, craning his head to look into the back of the car at the smaller boy. “Can I tell him, Won?”

“Now that you’ve phrased it so stupidly, I suppose you should.”

“Wonwoo’s applying for student president!” 

“Running, not applying,” Wonwoo corrected, turning a corner.

“That’s nice,” Jihoon said, not sounding very interested. “So why the library?”

“We’re going to go and use their printer to get the forms. Then we’re dropping them in the school mailbox so the administrative office can pick them up Monday morning and put Won on the register.”

“You’ve given him the entire itinerary, why not induct him as a committee member?” Wonwoo said dryly.

Soonyoung brightened. “That’s a wonderful idea!”

“I was joking-” Wonwoo was cut off by Soonyoung and sighed, tightening his hands on the steering wheel. “Great.”

“What positions are open?” Jihoon asked, as if humoring Soonyoung.

“Well, I’m Won’s personal advisor, and he needs a publicist and a debate preparation helper,” Soonyoung said earnestly.

“I’m not a people person,” Jihoon said. “But I’m good with psychology and writing and those things. I could help him prepare for debates-”

“I don’t need to figure out my whole committee right now,” Wonwoo said politely, not wanting to tell Jihoon that he just didn’t want him on his team.

“You actually do, it said it’ll be one of the fields on the form,” Soonyoung said apologetically.

Wonwoo sighed. 

Honestly, Soonyoung was his advisor. This campaign was already going down the drain, so…

“Yeah. I guess you can join.”

“Cool,” Jihoon said, once again not too interested, and went back on his phone.

They parked in the library lot and headed inside, Wonwoo waving to the receptionists- they all knew him; he spent all his free time here.

The trio walked to the side where the computers and printers were, and Soonyoung began pulling up the forms on one computer as Jihoon went off to get some books. Wonwoo leaned against the table and looked around, enjoying the quiet atmosphere of the library. He nodded casually towards a boy standing by the printers at the next table over- Kim Seungmin. Wonwoo had a few classes with the other junior, but had never really talked to him.

“Did it print yet?” came a voice from one of the tables, and Seungmin glanced over, shaking his head.

“Darn.” A blonde-bleached head popped into view, its owner having been bent over a laptop and therefore previously obscured from view. “Do you think it’s too long or something? We fed the banner paper in right and all.” Hwang Hyunjin brushed strands of hair from his face, gathering them and tying them in a half-ponytail with a bandana-like hairband.

“I don’t know,” Seungmin answered, glancing at the printer again. He poked at a few buttons. “Try again?” 

“We’ve been trying for like, two hours,” came another voice, and a round eyed boy emerged from the shelves behind Hyunjin, clearly having been wandering around with nothing to do.

“It hasn’t been that long, Jisung,” Hyunjin said calmly, pressing his laptop again. “There. Maybe this time-”

The printer clicked and whirred, and Wonwoo smiled as the three boys began exclamations of how long it’d taken and thank god that it was finally working and-

“Here it is,” Seungmin said, pulling a red and gold banner out from the printer. “How does it look?”

Curious by all the voices, Soonyoung craned his head to see as Wonwoo leaned forward to peek.

Bold letters across the banner read in English:

**HWANG FOR WANG!**

_Join the Hyunjinists and vote Hwang Hyunjin for student body president!_

Soonyoung gasped, busying himself with the computer again. Wonwoo felt a sickening lump settle in his stomach as he watched one of the most popular, intelligent boys of his grade congratulate his friends on the success of the poster and leave the library after triumphantly rolling up the banner- having received five more from the printer before exiting. 

“I told you he’s running,” Soonyoung consoled Wonwoo as they sat down at a table a few minutes later, having retrieved the form and now sitting down to fill it out. 

“Why bother at this point?” Wonwoo grumbled, clicking his pen and starting to fill out the form. 

Jihoon came and sat down next to them, holding a book as usual. “Did you see Hyunjin and his friends leaving? With their campaign posters?”

“I knew he was going to run already,” Soonyoung explained. “But hey, it was a really daring choice to do the posters in English. That catches the eye, that’s pretty smart. Also, the wordplay! Did you guys see it? Hwang For Wang? Hwang like his last name, Wang like king- it rhymes!”

“Yes, my competitor’s beyond smart,” Wonwoo said, irritated. “Let’s stop complimenting him and his amazing campaign before it even launches, and help me with this. What’s our slogan?”

“Vote Wonwoo,” Jihoon suggested.

“Nobody’s gonna vote for him if he makes that his slogan. It’s like an ant next to ‘Hwang For Wang’. Hm…” Soonyoung trailed off for a while, then brightened. “I know! Won for the Win! In English! It’s catchy like his.”

Wonwoo considered. “It’s alright. But I’ll take it.”

“Won, like your name, and-”

“Yeah, Soonyoung, we get it,” Jihoon said exasperatedly. “Make the team name 17CARAT.”

“What’s that?” Wonwoo asked mildly, writing it down anyway. 

“It’s a really rare, really precious, and very strong diamond,” Jihoon explained. “And in my opinion, sounds way better than ‘Hyunjinists’.”

“Yeah, his was really cult-ish,” Soonyoung agreed.

“Team members,” Wonwoo read off of the form. “Hm… okay. Personal advisor… Kwon Soonyoung. Debate Preparation… Lee Jihoon. Publicist…” Wonwoo looked blankly at the other two. “Publicist?”

“Junhui,” Jihoon suggested. “He never shuts up. Give him something to actually talk about.”

“Wait,” Soonyoung said, looking unsure. “What about Mingyu?”

Wonwoo’s eyes widened. “Oh shit.” 

“But like… do you think he’d want to do this?” Soonyoung considered. “He’s not really into government things…”

“He’s not very good at staying on topic either,” Wonwoo weighed. “Plus he’s got a lot going on this year… would I be nicer to leave him out?”

“He’s your best friend, you tell us,” Jihoon said.

Wonwoo thought a few more seconds, then put down Junhui’s name. “We can always change it, right?”

“Yeah, about that… not sure how long the changing process is,” Soonyoung said. “But I guess we can.”

“Great,” Wonwoo said, standing up. “Let’s go drop this off.”

Soonyoung beamed, bouncing between them on their way out of the library. “We’ve got a lot of work to do, team! We have to get started on our posters and things, it looks like Hyunjin’s already ahead of us there, we’ve got to establish a group chat and-”

“Don’t get too ahead of yourself,” Wonwoo said as they exited the library, walking quickly to the car amidst the light drizzle of rain.

“Ahead of myself? Never,” Soonyoung said, but he was grinning as he slid into the passenger seat.

•

“Want to come over before you go home?”

Minghao glanced over at Junhui. He looked so different in the driver’s seat, more commanding and authoritative and responsible. “Wouldn’t your parents find it a little weird for you to just bring people over?” He watched as Junhui activated the wipers, pushing the tiny raindrops off the windshield.

“Nah,” Junhui shrugged. “And it’s raining already, so I could just tell them I wanted to drive someplace quickly. They’re really hospitable.”

“Alright then. As long as I’m not a bother.”

“No, no. My siblings will probably be glad I brought someone home for them to play with.”

They pulled up outside a red brick house that was quite familiar to Minghao- it was Wonwoo’s old one, and he recalled coming here a few times when he was a sixth grader.

Junhui ran around to open the door for him, and Minghao laughed at the silly expression on the other’s face as he escorted him to the door, opening it and holding it for Minghao to enter first. 

“Ma, I brought my Mandarin friend!” Junhui yelled to the house, and Minghao looked around, smiling as the familiar smell of Chinese curry hit him. This felt just like his own apartment. Already the house looked lived in, as if Junhui’s family had been here for a while, although it was probably just the fact that Jun’s family was so large. Minghao could hear people moving around upstairs, but nobody seemed to be on the ground floor. 

Nobody replied to Junhui, and he shrugged, leading Minghao to the kitchen. “Everyone’s always busy. It’s two in the afternoon, so I suppose my mom will be with Jian, the baby, putting him down for his nap. My dad works on the weekends, so he’s not here. Tai’s probably reading, the twins’ll be napping too, and Wei-”

A boy slightly younger than them entered the kitchen, busy on a cell phone. He glanced up, smiling at Junhui, then glanced at Minghao. “Hello.”

“Wei, this is Minghao. My friend from school. The Mandarin speaker I told you about. Hao, this is my brother Weiyuan. He’s in seventh grade.” Junhui spoke to his brother in such an affectionate way that made Minghao wish he wasn’t an only child.

Minghao felt shy. Junhui had talked about him?

“Hi,” Weiyuan said, looking Minghao up and down. “You’re not a pretty girl,” he stated after that as if it was fact (which it was?).

“Um…. yeah?” Minghao replied, flustered. “What’s that supposed to mean?” He added, confused. Maybe he was missing something.

“Nothing,” Junhui said, now red-cheeked and glaring at Weiyuan. “Wei, leave us alone, I’m making tea for the two of us.”

“Okay, whatever,” Weiyuan said, smirking at Junhui in the way only siblings did before running from the kitchen.

“Ignore him,” Junhui said firmly, setting a teapot on the stove and filling it with powder. “He’s at that age, you know.”

Minghao tentatively sat down at the island counter, watching Junhui bustle around and make the tea. The older boy really was different in his own home, more mature and well-put together. 

A woman entered the kitchen and Minghao shot up, bowing to Junhui’s mother.

“Who’s this?” Mrs. Wen beamed, ignoring Minghao’s bow and sweeping him straight into a hug. Jun’s mother was short and happy faced, her smile bright and her eyes twinkling with the same sparkle of mischief and innocence that Junhui possessed. “Are you the Minghao Jun never stops talking about?”

“Ma,” Junhui said, once again pink in the face. “What are you talking about?”

“Oh, nothing, nothing,” Mrs. Wen laughed, hugging Minghao again. She really was a very friendly woman. “I want to thank you for helping Junhui around at school. You don’t know how much more comfortable we feel sending him off knowing he’s got someone there for him making him feel comfortable.”

“Y-you’re welcome,” Minghao said shyly.

“And you’re so thin! Do you want something to eat?”

“I’m okay,” Minghao blushed. “I’ve always looked like this, Mrs. Wen, I eat well.”

“Mrs. Wen!” She ruffled Minghao’s hair. “Call me ma, honey.”

Minghao blushed harder. He couldn’t remember being received by someone’s family so well before.

“Ma, you’re making him shy, back off,” Junhui called from the stove. “And Hao, tea’s ready.”

“Okay, hyung.” Minghao sat down again as Mrs. Wen began moving around the stove, evidently making dinner early.

Junhui sat down next to him, sliding him a cup of tea. As Minghao raised it to his lips and sipped- first tentatively and then eagerly because Junhui’s tea was so good- Junhui began to talk, and Minghao marveled at how fast the boy could go in Mandarin.

“Anyways, ma, Minghao’s going to chill here for a bit and then I’m driving him home. We were hanging out at the lacrosse game this morning and went to lunch with some of his friends. And then the rain kind of ruined everything, so we’re here.”

“I’m glad you boys had fun,” Mrs. Wen said approvingly, chopping vegetables. “Minghao, dear, I know it’s your first time over but would you like to stay over for dinner?”

“Maybe another time,” Minghao apologized. “I think my family already has dinner plans tonight.”

“Well, you’re welcome anytime,” Mrs. Wen assured him, and Junhui began talking again, and Minghao enjoyed sitting there and listening to mother and son laugh and bicker, chiming in here and there. 

He enjoyed it so much that he hadn’t realized that his phone had been silenced and there were multiple notifications on it- hadn’t realized until the doorbell rang.

“I’ll get it,” Junhui offered, getting up. Minghao finally checked his phone and gasped, bolting after him. 

Sure enough, Junhui opened the door to be met by Minghao’s scowling father.

“Dad, I’m so sorry, I forgot to text you,” Minghao apologized, knowing it was not enough to fix the numerous messages and missed calls on his phone. “After we went out to eat, it started raining and Junhui offered to drive me over-”

“So this is Junhui?” Mr. Xu’s scowl only grew more pronounced. “Minghao, I had to check your location off of your phone, your mother and I were so worried, you didn’t answer a single call and I had to drive all the way here-”

“Junhui, who is it-” Mrs. Wen appeared at the doorway. “Oh! You must be Minghao’s father. We were just giving him some tea-”

“Minghao is coming home now,” Mr. Xu said rudely, cutting off Jun’s mother. Minghao felt his face burn with embarrassment. “I’m sorry for having him intrude.”

Mrs. Wen recovered quickly. “He was a pleasure to have! Please know that we’d love to have him again.”

“Thank you for your hospitality,” Minghao said hastily, bowing to Junhui and his mother before his father’s hand closed around his wrist and he was pulled off to the car.

“Dad-” Minghao started as they backed out of the driveway.

“We told you not to hang around that boy just yesterday!” Mr. Xu’s face was alight with fury. “Look at him, and his rich house and rich family and fancy cars and whatnot- you don’t need people like him to ruin your life!”

“Dad, he’s one of my friends!”

“His family’s too rich and powerful!”

“What does that have to do with anything?”

“He’ll become your friend and then when he finds out how poor we are compared to him, he’ll drop you so quickly,” his father said angrily.

“Junhui’s not like that. He doesn’t care.”

“Stay away from him like we asked you!” 

“And if I won’t?” Minghao retorted, instantly regretting it.

Mr. Xu glared at Minghao through the rearview mirror. “Give me your phone. You’re grounded. Now until whenever you’ll apologize to me and your mother for going behind our backs. And if I see you with that Wen kid again, no matter what it’s for, I’ll give you the lecture of your life.”

Fuming, Minghao tossed his phone into the front of the car and turned to the window, glaring at the dark stormy sky and hating his parents to the core. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> aaand wonwoo’s made his spontaneous decision. lots of emotions on this chapter!!
> 
> hyunjinists and staycarats, it’s a win!! but between Won for the Win and Hwang for Wang,, who’s gonna come out on top ooo
> 
> anyways i’m so tired after writing this chapter but lmk what u think in the comments!! share ur fav parts 
> 
> and last of all, tell someone u love them today!! ily all  
> -mingyuwu


	18. 16. monday mornings and theater drama

Good morning baby!” Jeonghan threw himself into Seungcheol’s arms, pressing a kiss to his lips. “Happy Monday!”

“Someone’s happy today,” Seungcheol smiled as he set the car into drive, making sure Jeonghan had settled into the passenger seat and buckled up before they started. 

“It just feels like it’ll be a good week,” Jeonghan beamed, texting someone. “We’re getting Shua, right?”

Seungcheol groaned, his blood pressure rising at the thought of the reckless, rude American boy. “Do we have to?”

“Yes, we promised,” Jeonghan said exasperatedly, checking Joshua’s address. “Where is that… I think it’s the gray house next to the family with the brown poodle. Down by the west side of the subdivision.”

Seungcheol drummed his fingers on the steering wheel, staring straight at the road ahead as they maneuvered the streets. “I dunno, Han, should we really be friends with a guy like that? Drugs? You heard him on Saturday.”

“He’s so sweet, Cheol. Just give him a chance.”

“He was eyeing you.”

“I don’t think he’s into boys, though. He’s from America.”

“They have gay people there too!”

“Well, I’m probably not his type if he swings the other way.” Jeonghan giggled. “I’m just your type, baby.”

“Don’t sugar me,” Seungcheol said irritably. “He’s definitely up to something. And I don’t like his attitude. So cocky. As if he knows something nobody else does. Why are all American kids like that? They come here and pretend like they’re superior because of their financial status or because they’ve got perfect English or what?”

“Seungcheol, we live in the richest community around.” 

“So? He still acts like he’s better than us.”

“You’re just biased because you think he likes me,” Jeonghan said, now sounding annoyed.

“And you think he doesn’t? You’d have to be blind to miss the flirting.”

“So you’ve been eavesdropping on us talking or something?”

“Han, it’s not- I mean, of course I’m worried! This guy comes from some random place with some weird background and he’s already got you wrapped around his finger!” Seungcheol frowned. “Wait, so you admit he’s flirting with you?”

“Some people are just naturally more flirty than others, okay!” Jeonghan crossed his arms. “It’s all mannerisms, you know. People are all naturally different levels of smooth. It just happens Joshua’s really smooth, so he _sounds_ like he’s flirting all the time. Mingyu winks at everyone and you don’t say anything about that!”

“Mingyu’s not supposed to be my boyfriend, and plus he’s actually trying to flirt with people!”

Jeonghan was silent for a moment. “What do you mean, supposed to be?

“What?”

“You said ‘supposed to be my boyfriend’,” Jeonghan glared over. “What does that mean?”

“Well, with the way you’re snuggled up with _adorable Shua_ after half a week of him being here, it looks a little weird, doesn’t it?”

“You’re being such an ass today, Cheol.”

“Well, I’m sorry that I don’t want my boyfriend going around with some suspicious druggie kid from America-”

“He’s here to get help!” Jeonghan replied petulantly. “That’s so brave of him.”

Seungcheol rolled his eyes. “One, his parents sent him and he’d probably be in America, two, it’s not brave to get help for a problem you voluntarily caused for yourself, and three-”

“We’re here,” Jeonghan announced, getting out his phone as Seungcheol pulled to the curb. “I’m texting Joshua.” With that being said, he threw his backpack in the back seat and unbuckled his seatbelt. 

“What are you doing now?” Seungcheol asked, extremely irritable that stupid Joshua had ruined their Monday morning without even getting in the car yet.

“I’m sitting in the back with Shua,” Jeonghan said primly, as if he knew exactly how much it would piss Seungcheol off. 

Seungcheol let his head fall back against the headrest. “Please don’t be so dramatic about this.”

“Shut up,” Jeonghan snapped, climbing out of his seat, over the center console, and flopping into the back of the car. “And don’t talk to me for the rest of this ride.”

Joshua walked out of his house. Walked was the wrong word. More like swaggered out, with those top two buttons undone yet again and the stupid bandana around his arm.

“That’s original,” Seungcheol snorted.

“I told you to shut up.” Jeonghan retorted from the back.

“And I’m not talking to you.”

Joshua smiled at Jeonghan as he opened the door, sliding inside. “Hey, hyungs. Thanks for-”

“That bandana’s against dress code, Hong, and you’ll need to do your uniform up properly,” Seungcheol reeled off in the most clipped, cold voice he could muster. It wasn’t particularly hard, not while looking at Joshua’s stupid face through the rearview mirror.

Joshua’s face was one of stunned disbelief as he slowly pulled the bandana off his arm, stowing it in his bag. “Do I really need to-”

“They’ll make you do up your buttons if you try walking in like that,” Seungcheol said calmly. “Might as well do it in my car and avoid embarrassment. For you and for me. The school president can’t walk in with what looks like a homeless delinquent, although I do understand that’s the American style. We do things a little different around here, and the _last thing_ I want is for you to feel unwelcome or stupid, _of course_.” Seungcheol layered the last sentence with so much artificial honey in his voice that it would’ve suffocated a beehive. 

Jeonghan’s glare was clear through the rearview mirror as Joshua fumbled with his buttons. “Seungcheol’s just really big on school pride and commitment,” he explained to Joshua, using the calm and soft voice that he really shouldn’t be using on random drug boys from the states. “Don’t take it personal.”

“Of course, it’s not supposed to be personal,” Seungcheol said, saccharine sweet. He blinked innocently at Jeonghan through the mirror, and set the car in drive. “We should go. Don’t want to be late.” 

•

Mingyu was late as usual.

Wonwoo sighed, leaning against the paneling next to the door as it swung open, revealing the aforementioned younger boy, who was struggling with his disheveled hair as his grandmother shoved him out the door, giving Wonwoo a look of exasperation. “Try and get him to school on time, honey.”

Wonwoo laughed and thanked Mrs. Kim as they set off, Mingyu still ruffling his hair. “I didn’t have time to put in hair gel again!”

“Oh, calamity,” Wonwoo remarked dryly, quickening the pace in a way that indicated Mingyu was expected to keep up. “We’re going to be late.”

“Guess what,” Mingyu launched into speech again, and Wonwoo groaned. Monday mornings were not ideal to listen to these rantings.

“Let’s hear it.”

“When we went to visit ma, on Saturday- you know, when you and Soonyoung hyung were doing tutoring or whatever- I went into my dad’s strategy room and I brought some things home. Just in case, you know, if ma goes ballistic and starts destroying everything.”

“That’s cool,” Wonwoo said, not sure what emotion Mingyu would want him to express. “I’m glad you have some of his things. I think that’s a good step.”

“Yeah.” Mingyu glanced at him. “How was Soonyoung on Saturday?”

“What?”

“Tutoring.”

“Oh.” Wonwoo felt his face flush at what he’d thought of. That was disgusting. Soonyoung wasn’t even his friend, let alone someone he could think of doing that with. He supposed he was just being a dirty minded teenager. Hormones and all. “Yeah, it was alright. We actually went out and got some stuff for the presidential campaign.”

“Soonyoung’s running?” Mingyu made a face. “Our school will be in chaos if he wins. He’s nice, but the place will go up in flames.”

“Soonyoung’s not running. I am.” Wonwoo grinned at the look of surprised excitement on Mingyu’s face. “Like that news, I suppose?”

“I’m so excited!” Mingyu began walking faster out of the new boost of energy, and Wonwoo laughed as he tried to keep up. “We’re gonna be the best pair ever!”  
“What are you talking about?” Wonwoo grinned, quickening his pace again to keep up as the school came into view.

“You know, how the advisor becomes the vice president,” Mingyu explained, as if he’d thought this all out extensively. “If you win, hyung, you’ll be the president and I’ll be vice president!”

Wonwoo nearly stopped walking, and gaped at Mingyu. “What?”

“I’m so excited!” Mingyu repeated, his face shining with joy as he grabbed Wonwoo by the wrist and dragged him through Pledis High’s front gates.

Wonwoo felt sickened. 

Mingyu thought that Wonwoo had made him his number one, his first advisor, his main counsel.

Mingyu had that much faith in Wonwoo to not even _question_ the fact that Wonwoo would choose him for his committee indefinitely, even though Mingyu hadn’t been there when Wonwoo was filling out the form. 

For Mingyu, Wonwoo was not a variable. Wonwoo was a constant, and he knew that if Mingyu had to fill out the same form, he’d put Wonwoo’s name right after his without a doubt, without even needing to consult Wonwoo. 

And Wonwoo had, in a moment of uncertainty, put down Soonyoung’s name instead.

Soonyoung, his enemy. 

And then, when he’d had the chance to put Mingyu’s name instead of Junhui’s, he’d gone against his best friend. Because he’d put five seconds of thought in that decision, and he’d stupidly thought that Mingyu’s lack of interest in the class president elections would stop his eager, always supportive, hardworking best friend from wanting to be on Wonwoo’s committee. 

Because honestly, Mingyu would do anything for Wonwoo. He probably would be so excited to participate that he wouldn’t even mind that it was school-governing related.

Wonwoo had just been so distracted with the whole spontaneity of the thing that he hadn’t thought things through. It all came crashing down on him now.

Wonwoo was running with his enemy as his advisor, a blabbermouth as a publicist, and a quiet boy that got on his every nerve as his debate preparation helper. And he’d missed his best friend in all of this.

It didn’t help that his main competition was very smart, very popular, and had picked strong candidates for his own committee- Hwang Hyunjin, Han Jisung, and Kim Seungmin came as a package and were _not_ sold separately. 

“Shit,” Wonwoo breathed.

He was so screwed. 

“What?” Mingyu stopped walking, immediately resuming again in seconds as he continued propelling Wonwoo, this time through the school’s front doors.

“I…” Wonwoo grasped Mingyu by the hands. He wasn’t normally this touchy, but he knew this was the best way to communicate with the younger and it’d be received much better if he talked to Mingyu in Mingyu’s style.

“Tell me what it is,” Mingyu said impatiently, pulling him to the side so they wouldn’t block other students filtering in.

“Mingyu, I didn’t pick you,” Wonwoo said quietly. “I picked Soonyoung.”

Mingyu stared at him for a few seconds, then burst out laughing. “Nice one!”

“What?” Wonwoo asked, confused.

“I bet you and Soonyoung hyung teamed up to say that!” Mingyu smiled at him. “Hyung, I know you’d pick me before anyone else. You can’t even try that with me.”

“No- no, Mingyu, I’m serious,” Wonwoo said weakly. “I really didn’t pick you.”

But Mingyu was only smiling wider now. “I can’t wait to say ‘I already knew’ when they announce all the running groups on Friday! But I’ll keep it a secret until then,” Mingyu adopted a solemn expression. “I’ll even act really surprised like I didn’t have any idea at all.” 

“Mingyu,” Wonwoo began again.

“No no no,” Mingyu beamed, pressing a finger to Wonwoo’s lips. “You’re such a bad actor, hyung, just give up.”

Wonwoo deflated. There was no point. Mingyu would find out on Friday and he’d hate him.

“Yeah,” he sighed as they started walking again.. “I am a bad actor, aren’t I?”

Bad friend, more like _,_ Wonwoo thought to himself, watching Mingyu proclaim that he’d known Wonwoo would run all along and how he was so honored to be Wonwoo’s running mate and he’d really make him proud.

Wonwoo internally sighed, deciding to just enjoy this week. 

For the first time in his life, he was not looking forward to the end of it. 

•

“Aren’t you excited?” Seokmin beamed as they walked into school. “I’ve been waiting for results day for the last two weeks, can’t believe it’s here.”

Seungkwan felt his heart flutter nervously. “Yeah. I just hope I got a part.”

Today was a busy day for the theater department. The audition results for the fall musical Excalibur were coming out today morning. Seungkwan wished it wasn’t today- there was a chamber singers showcase tonight and he knew that he’d perform horribly if the audition results weren’t up to his expectations.

Seungkwan’s heart was fluttering like mad because he had no idea how this audition had went. He’d thought that he’d performed well, but the judges this time had been music teachers from a local arts school and had all been straight faced. Although Seokmin and Soonyoung had reported similar experiences, he felt uneasy as he thought about the level of receptiveness he’d received during the audition. 

“I think I did alright,” Seokmin continued, evidently having spent all night thinking about how his audition two weeks prior had gone. “I’m just so nervous… I don’t know, those judges this time. I feel so anxious. I went back and checked the music later and I don’t know if I performed the third song for the audition with the proper delivery of emotion… I heard your audition through the door, Kwan, I think you did really well.”

Seungkwan smiled. “Thanks, hyung, but I’m sure you did great too.”

“By the way,” Seokmin asked as they entered the arts hallway, “what happened on Friday night with Mingyu?”

“What do you mean?”

“At the park. I forgot to ask you because by the time you came home your mom was setting up dinner for us.”

Seungkwan glanced around before continuing. “He was crying really hard. I think he’s got… some things going on with his brother. I don’t know. He seemed really… like he felt he was second best?”

Seokmin gently nudged him. “Did you tell him that he’s always first for you?”

Seungkwan made a face. “I’m not sappy like you.”

“Yeah, yeah. Is he okay, though?”

“I think so, yeah. I talked to him. Tried to say something helpful, but he was pretty closed off about the whole thing and I didn’t want to over insert my opinion in his family problems.” 

They entered the smaller music hallway, where sure enough there was a cluster of students already flocking to the large papers posted across the doors to the choir room. 

“Hello,” a cheerful voice sang from behind them, and Soonyoung draped his arms around both of them, squeezing himself between them. “And how are we today?”

“Nervous,” Seungkwan said, nodding towards the crowds. “Ready?”

“Let’s go look,” Seokmin agreed. 

“Wait, wait,” Soonyoung complained loudly, dragging his feet to stop all three of them. “I’m so nervous, it’s such a small cast… only fifteen spots… I don’t know… let’s wait a second…”

“Come on, hyung!” Seungkwan laughed. “You’ll make it!”

They neared the poster and a girl broke away from the group- Jihyo, one of the girls of their chamber group. She saw them and instantly beamed, running over. 

“Seokmin- Seokmin! You’re the lead!” Jihyo yelled across the hallway, drawing attention and appreciative clapping from others around them. 

Seokmin screeched, breaking free of their group, and Soonyoung burst into laughter, Seungkwan clapping excitedly as they ran the last few feet to the results, Seokmin bouncing on his toes to see over all the people and screaming again as he saw his name at the top of the list. 

“Our Seokmin!” Soonyoung and Seungkwan crushed him in a hug as the other students crowded around the poster turned around, giving him congratulations. Seokmin was, at this point, a sobbing happy mess overcome with excitement. 

“Breathe, Seokie!” Soonyoung laughed as he held the crying boy, glancing at Seungkwan. “Kwan, can you look for me too? I don’t think I can let him go right now.”

Seungkwan nodded, squeezing between people and scanning the list. “Hyung, you’re supporting lead!” He called back over to Soonyoung over all the chattering theater students. “And I’m…”

Seungkwan ran his finger down the list, blinking and starting again from the top with a frown. His heart began thrumming uneasily and he felt nauseated as he checked again.

Soonyoung was next to him in seconds, an arm over his shoulders. “Seokie’s with Jihyo. Where’d they put you, Kwannie?”

“I’m…” Seungkwan shook his head, glancing the list up and down again. “I’m not on the list?”

“What?” Soonyoung inspected the list. “Maybe you missed your name, Boo, they’d definitely want you.”  
“I’m not here, hyung,” Seungkwan repeated quietly.

Soonyoung bit his lip, scanning the list up and down again. “That’s odd. Do you want to talk to Yang _seonsaeng_ about it? Maybe they forgot to add your name.”

“There’s fifteen parts available and fifteen names here. If they didn’t want me I guess that’s it,” Seungkwan said, feeling miserable and like he was about to throw up.

Seokmin appeared at his other side, evidently having recovered from his shock, wiping tears from his cheeks. “I’m so happy-” he caught sight of Seungkwan’s dejected face. “Did you not get a supporting lead?”

“He’s not on the list itself,” Soonyoung replied on Seungkwan’s behalf, sounding angry at the judges.

“What?” Seokmin reacted just as Soonyoung had, glancing at the list again. “Did you double check?”

“Yes,” Seungkwan said irritably. Soonyoung heard the tension his voice and gently tugged the younger boy into his embrace, hugging him from behind. 

“It’s okay, Kwannie, it’s one musical,” Soonyoung said gently, squeezing his body a little and swaying back and forth. “I’m sure your audition was wonderful, maybe your voice wasn’t what they were looking for this time. There’s still the spring musical, okay?”

“Yeah,” Seungkwan said, looking around at the other loudly talking students, evidently trying to find their own names. “Come on, guys, we’re kind of in the way.”

Seungkwan felt his face burn as people glanced his way, evidently wondering if he’d made it in, and felt shame press down on him as he realized people would be looking for all the chamber singers’ names- and out of all the chamber singers that had tried out, he was the only one that’d been cut.

Seungkwan felt Soonyoung gently rub his palm over his heart, as if trying to assuage the feeling of failure that was brimming over the top at this point. The affectionate gesture brought burning tears to his eyes again, and this time he let them spill over. 

“Hyung, he’s crying,” Seokmin said worriedly. 

Soonyoung craned his head over Seungkwan’s shoulder to see, instantly letting him go only to wrap an arm around his waist and walk next to him, carefully wiping his tears. “You’re so talented, Kwan, and it’s just one stupid show, it doesn’t matter. You’re still in chamber as a freshman, loads of people like your voice. It’s your first high school musical audition, and it’s really hard for freshmen to make the productions here. It doesn’t mean you’re bad-”

“Chan made it and he’s a freshman,” Seungkwan said miserably.

“Chan’s an exemplary dancer and they need stunt people.”

“Thanks, hyung. That makes me feel great,” Seungkwan said, hating how bitter that made him sound, but he couldn’t help it. It wasn’t even Chan’s fault, and he was happy and proud of all his friends. He couldn’t even dream of wanting to take any of their places. He just wanted to perform _next_ to them.

The morning bell rang and Soonyoung hugged Seungkwan again. “I’ll see you at lunch. Seokmin, let’s go?”

“Yeah,” Seokmin said, hugging Seungkwan again, and he felt that wave of shame crash over him once more. They should be celebrating Seokmin’s amazing result and the fact that he’d made it to the lead role as a sophomore. It was unfair for him to steal the attention from Seokmin this way, Seungkwan reflected. He was being such a mood dampener.

“Don’t feel bad,” Soonyoung said firmly, as if he could hear what Seungkwan was thinking. “We’d all feel bad if it was us. You’re allowed to be upset. Just don’t beat yourself up about it more than you need to.”

Seungkwan nodded, watching them walk off before turning and heading to class.

**_-end of act one-_ **

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so this marks the end of act one! act two will arrive in a while and i’m sure you’ll all be very excited :)
> 
> tell someone u love em today, i love all of you!! <3  
> -mingyuwu


	19. 17. act two; an ode

**_\- act two; an ode -_ **

“Warm up time!” 

The chamber singers clustered around the co-leaders, Jeonghan and Jihyo. The choir room was empty excepting what was supposed to be ten of them- everyone was bustling around in the hallways of the art department before the show, and people were flitting in and out of the room, which had been designated for their last run-through rehearsal before going on stage. 

Seokmin’s eyes flickered around the room. Nayeon, Sana, Ryujin, Jihyo and Momo, the five girls, were all busy with helping around. Himself, Jeonghan, and Chan were only three of the five boys that should be present. 

“Gather up and warm up, everyone,” Jihyo directed, helping Chan with his tie. The freshman boy was too busy gazing at her dreamily, grinning stupidly and nodding when she asked if the tightness was alright. It was rather a lost cause, because Seokmin was pretty sure that Jihyo, a senior, saw the four years younger boy more like a little brother than anything. 

Chan wasn’t the only person looking like a teen protagonist in a romcom flick- Jeonghan was staring up at Joshua, who’d come back here to help the former with his hair before the show. Joshua was carefully gelling Jeonghan’s hair off his forehead into an updo that was undeniably sexy, and Seokmin could admit that completely, as a relatively straight man. Jeonghan was getting a dangerous look in his eyes as he grew accustomed to the new style and Joshua’s were already gleaming with mischief as he made the hairstyle more and more exuberant. 

“Thirty minutes till the first show of the year,” Jihyo continued. “Where’s Soonyoung? He needs to do his fighting cheer or whatever he calls it…” 

“Probably fixing his suit in the bathroom,” Nayeon replied, the sophomore flipping through pages of music as she walked back and forth, lips moving soundlessly as she scanned the pages. 

“I’ll get him,” Seokmin said, walking out into the hallway. He immediately crashed into Seungcheol, who’d evidently been coming to see Jeonghan before his show. “Oh, hi, hyung. He’s in there with Joshua hyung.”

Seungcheol mumbled a thanks and brushed past Seokmin, looking irritable and miserable.

Seokmin decided that he didn’t want to get into their drama and strode briskly down the arts hallway to the small bathroom. He paused on his way there to detour to a back auxiliary door into the wings of the stage, standing in the shadows behind the curtains as tech crew messed with lighting and listening to the sound of the audience chattering, trying to gauge how many people had shown up tonight. 

By the sound of it, this was a much larger turnout than the first showcase they’d had last year. 

Seokmin beamed and left the wings back to the hallway, the same way he’d come in, continuing his path to the bathroom. He heard a pair of voices inside, and knocked briefly before entering.

Seungkwan was sitting on the floor, tears streaming down his face, Soonyoung kneeling next to him and comforting him.

Seokmin gasped and slammed the door shut behind himself, kneeling beside Soonyoung. “Kwannie? What’s wrong?”

“I just found him like this,” Soonyoung said worriedly, carefully stroking Seungkwan’s hair.

“Come on, I know you’re nervous, Kwan, but it’s going to be okay!” Seokmin beamed. “This is your first high school showcase, and you’re performing with chamber! You passed the audition and practiced all summer with us, you and Chan are working harder than any other freshmen in theater! You’re going to do so well! Come on, stand up Boo, your suit might wrinkle and get dirt from the floor- and you look so handsome in this!” Seokmin gently hooked his hands under Seungkwan’s arms and hauled the stubborn boy to his feet, glad they were at eye level now. “You’re going to do amazing!”

Soonyoung gently rubbed comforting circles into Seungkwan’s back. “Is something else else bothering you, Kwan? Is it just nerves?”

Seungkwan rubbed his eyes, a choked sob escaping his lips as he shook his head fervently. “I’ve already ruined the morning, I don’t have to ruin tonight too… let’s just go and get ready, everyone’s probably waiting-”

“You’re our baby, Boo!” Soonyoung pinched his cheek. “We care about you, Kwan. Tell hyungs what’s wrong.”

“I just-” Seungkwan shook his head again, and Seokmin felt his heart break at the sight of his best friend crying like this. “I don’t know.”

“You’re going to be okay,” Soonyoung repeated, gathering Seungkwan in a crushing hug. “Better than okay, actually. You’re going to steal that stage. But you won’t be able to do it if your voice is already strained from crying. Come on, Boo. We’ve got you.”

Seokmin felt guilty. He knew he shouldn’t, but he also knew why Seungkwan was crying. It was not such an out-of-reach idea that the news of audition results had circled around the school, and since chamber showcases were popular many students would attend. And it was also not going to be a secret that out of the ten students standing on stage, five had tried out for the musical and only four had succeeded. And Seungkwan was left in the dust and would certainly feel that way standing on stage with his members and staring out at an audience he couldn’t see because he was blinded by a hot spotlight.

Seokmin knew that he’d done his audition well, but he couldn’t understand why Seungkwan had been cut. The younger boy was immensely talented and Seokmin would honestly give up his lead role to Seungkwan if it was possible, even though he knew the younger boy would never accept it. 

Seungkwan took a few shuddering breaths. “Yeah. Let’s go.”

Seokmin wrapped a comforting arm around Seungkwan’s shoulders as they headed back to the small choir hallway that branched off the main arts one.

However, they were met by a pair of voices arguing outside the choir room, and stayed put behind the corner of the arts hallway, wondering who were bickering back here- after all, only the chamber singers and their friends were allowed in the choir room right now, which was used as a last-minute rehearsal before they transitioned to the auditorium stage for the night. 

But whoever this pair was, they were clearly immersed in a conversation- or argument- too private to take it into the choir room where all the other singers were.

“...been an ass since this morning and I can’t understand why you’re so bitter-”

“Well, you keep encouraging him!”

“I don’t even know what you’re talking about, Cheol! He was literally just helping me with my hair-”

“He looked like he wanted to have you right there on the chair when I walked in!” Seungcheol had never yelled like that in his life. Seokmin and Soonyoung shared a nervous look over Seungkwan’s head- the younger boy was resting his cheek on Soonyoung’s shoulder, looking even more miserable to be eavesdropping on the eldest hyungs arguing like this. 

“Maybe if you stopped analyzing his every move you’d see how nice of a person he is! He’s not even been here for a week!”

“That’s my point! You literally don’t like anyone touching your hair- heck, you don’t even let me touch it sometimes- and you’re letting _him_ run his hands all over it?”

“Here’s a concept, Choi, I can feel comfortable doing different things with different people.”

Seungcheol exhaled. “Wow. So you’d rather have Joshua touching you?”

“Now you’ve just taken it out of context. Are you here to support me or not?”

“Of course I’m here to support you, but how happy do you think I am to see you inviting that druggie backstage?”

“I didn’t invite him, I just said it in passing that people come to visit before the shows! And don’t you dare call him that! I still stand by what I said, okay. He’s so brave for coming here to get help. Plus, don’t you see how scared he is when he sees you? He ran out of the choir room like a frightened animal!”

“He’s only pretending to be innocent in front of you! He’s always smirking at me when you’re not looking.”

“So leave then!” Jeonghan shouted, and it was pretty obvious that he was crying now. “Leave because of your little jealous fit over him being _nice_ to me-”

“Maybe I fucking will-”

“What’s going on?” came a quiet voice behind the three of them, and they turned to see Mingyu standing there, Wonwoo behind him. 

“What are you two doing here?” Seungkwan whispered, having perked up to see his crush so close by.

“Came to say good luck before finding seats- are you crying?” Mingyu frowned.

“No-” Seungkwan flushed, hurriedly rubbing his eyes. “I was just- no.”

Seokmin was glancing between Wonwoo and Soonyoung, who were locked in a staring match.

“Didn’t think you came to theater events,” Soonyoung said.

Wonwoo shrugged, and then grinned. Like, actually grinned. “Surprise.” 

Seokmin blinked a few times. Maybe he’d imagined it. Wonwoo, relaxed and happy and smiling and even sounding a little carefree. Not in a million years. 

“I dragged him along. What’re they doing?” Mingyu whispered, nodding to around the corner where it sounded like Jeonghan and Seungcheol were now in a complete row.

“Ripping each other apart because of Joshua hyung,” Seokmin whispered darkly.

“I hate this,” Seungkwan said miserably. “I hate hearing Jeonghan hyung cry.”

Mingyu straightened from his position, having been slouched on the wall to be at face-level with Soonyoung. Seokmin nearly laughed at how much taller his puppy-like friend seemed when he fixed his posture. “Me too. Wait here.”

“Wait- _Mingyu_!” Wonwoo hissed, grabbing at his best friend, but Mingyu had already darted out of his reach and was already around the corner, where the loud voices had cut off quickly upon his entrance.

“Goddamn,” Soonyoung rolled his eyes, breaking away from Seungkwan. “Come on, Wonwoo, I’ll take you to the nicest seat in the house as reward for what you’ll definitely consider a two hour long torture. Maybe Mingyu’ll iron things out by the time I’m back. You two-” he nodded at Seungkwan and Soonyoung. “Keep an eye on stuff.”

Seokmin rolled his eyes at this macho way of speaking. “Yessir. Two spoons of sugar in your coffee, sir?”

“Shut up, Lee. Come on, Won, let’s go.”

Seokmin and Soonyoung were left staring wide eyed at each other, their nearly sibling-like telepathy echoing the same idea.

_‘Won’?_

•

“Best seats in the house, huh?” Wonwoo said skeptically, glancing along the empty row. 

“Yep,” Soonyoung said proudly.

They were at the top right section of the large auditorium, at a distance where it’d be slightly difficult to make out faces on stage if you didn’t know each person like the back of your hand.

“I assume it’s not for viewing purposes?” Wonwoo added dryly, sitting down in a seat experimentally.

“I mean, I think it’s got a nice view. But here-” Soonyoung raised his arms dramatically. “Here, the sound really _gets_ you. Here it echoes and reverberates and does all sorts of beautiful things that the people in the front miss because they just want to look at how handsome we are.” Soonyoung winked and Wonwoo lightly kicked his shin. “Anyway. These seats up here, they’re easily the best in the house.”

“Mhm.”

“If you don’t trust me, just try it tonight. You’ll come running back for the next chamber showcase.” Soonyoung drew a program sheet from the inside of his jacket, handing it to Wonwoo. “There’s tonight’s setlist. Our show’s called _Heng:garae_ . It’s about celebration of youth. 

“I see,” Wonwoo said dubiously, flipping it over to read the back. “ _‘Pledis High Chamber Singers, seventeenth chapter. Comprised of ten audition-cleared individuals, five boys and five girls, the chamber singers aim to deliver a highly cultivated and diverse range of music throughout various eras and genres. Known as the highest choir group at Pledis High, chamber singers meet for one hour during school each day as well as run additional practices during the weekday mornings._ _Members: Park Jihyo, senior. Yoon Jeonghan, senior. Hirai Momo, junior. Minatozaki Sana, junior. Kwon Soonyoung, junior-’”_ Soonyoung clicked his tongue and winked at Wonwoo again. Wonwoo rolled his eyes and kept reading. “ _‘Shin Ryujin, sophomore. Im Nayeon, sophomore. Lee Seokmin, sophomore. Boo Seungkwan, freshman. Lee Chan, freshman.’”_ Wonwoo nodded slowly. “Sounds very professional. I like it. Who wrote this?”

“I did,” Soonyoung said, puffing out his chest. Wonwoo hit him with the program sheet.

“Liar.”

“No, really, I did. Seungkwan helped, but I did the little promo bit.”

“So what did Seungkwan help with? Cause there’s not much but the promo.”

“I’ve known Sana for three years and still can’t spell her last name right. It took a few tries, plus my fingers are too big for the keyboard, so Seungkwan took over.” 

Wonwoo laughed, and found himself shocked. He was laughing. At something Soonyoung said. 

To make things (which had been going well) awkward, he stopped laughing suddenly, leaving Soonyoung watching him uncertainly.

“So, I’ll go now,” Soonyoung said, smiling lightly. “Enjoy the show. I’ll tell Mingyu where you’re sitting, but you’ll probably need a neon sign for him to find his way up here. Several neon signs.” Soonyoung chuckled, shaking his head as he made his way to the aisle stairs. “That clumsy fool. One thing that’s never changed.”

“I think a lot hasn’t changed,” Wonwoo blurted out, and Soonyoung’s owlish eyes were on him again, this time hopeful but confused. “Enjoy the show- I mean- god- good luck. Yeah.” Face burning with embarrassment, Wonwoo managed one more smile in Soonyoung’s direction and waved as the shorter boy hopped back down the stairs to leave.

Wonwoo covered his face with the program, glad nobody else was sitting up this high to see his flaming cheeks. 

•

“See you after your show,” Seungcheol muttered to Jeonghan, hugging him briefly. “Listen- we’ll talk later. I don’t want you to get hung up on this. We’ll figure it out, okay?”

Jeonghan’s face was flushed and puffy from crying, but he buried it in Seungcheol’s shoulder nevertheless, sniffling as he nodded.

“I love you, okay?” Seungcheol murmured into Jeonghan’s sweet-smelling hair, closing his eyes. It was that shampoo they’d bought together. Matching bath products were in, Jeonghan had said. Apparently Jeonghan had thought it was the epitome of relationship aesthetic to smell like ‘cherry blossoms and vanilla cream’ with one’s partner. Seungcheol thought it was adorable. Or maybe just because it was Jeonghan. 

Another nod. Jeonghan was clutching him tightly now, as if he didn’t want him to leave.

Seungcheol slowly drew away, the dampness on his shoulder a bitter reminder of the horrible way he’d lashed out.

“Sorry,” Jeonghan whispered.

Seungcheol gently squeezed his hand. “We’ll work it out. We always do.”

And it broke his heart to see that Jeonghan averted his eyes, as if his boyfriend wasn’t so sure.

Luckily, someone much more gullible was still standing between them, pouting as he watched them make up. And that someone was thankfully ready to swoop in with a hug right after, crushing both slightly shorter boys to his body.

“Hyungs made up!” Mingyu cheered as he hugged them, and Seungcheol wondered who he was announcing this to, until Seungkwan and Seokmin peeked around the corner, looking relieved. 

“You guys were here this whole time?” Jeonghan managed a teary laugh, accepting Seungkwan into his arms. “Kwan, your eyes are swollen. Did you cry listening to us?”

“No, it was other things, hyung.”

Jeonghan rolled his eyes at Seungcheol, patting Seungkwan’s back. “Tell me why we adopted this one, Cheol.”

Seungcheol laughed a little. “You’re the one responsible for that.”

“Our little Seungkwannie cried?” Mingyu cooed, separating Seungkwan from Jeonghan and dragging him forcibly to the choir room. “Come here, away from everyone, there’s something I want to give you.”

Bewildered and red-cheeked, Seungkwan allowed himself to be led off. 

Seokmin put his arm around Jeonghan as Seungcheol kissed his boyfriend goodbye, calling good luck and leaving the hallway just as Soonyoung rounded the corner, waving at his hyung before walking quickly to join them where they stood. 

“So?” Soonyoung said impatiently. “What tea did I miss?”

“It’s really nothing, guys,” Jeonghan said smoothly, still dabbing at his eyes. “All couples fight, you know? Cheol and I are just going through some confusion and it’s going to take some hashing out but we’ll be back and strong as ever, I’m sure.”

“If you say so,” Seokmin agreed. “But we’ll beat him up if you two break up.”

Jeonghan’s lips quirked in a smile. “And if it was my fault?” He shook his head moments later, blonde locks cascading onto his forehead. “Given the level of miscommunication we’ve worked ourselves to, a statement like that could be pretty detrimental. Forget I said that.” He steered them towards the choir room, his breathing still hitching slightly from crying but much more under control. “Let’s go warm up and get ready to sing our hearts out.”

•

Jihoon wasn’t quite sure what he was doing here. The auditorium was filled with chattering students excitedly awaiting the first chamber showcase of the year. Jihoon didn’t even know who was in chamber singers- he’d vaguely pieced together that Soonyoung was a part of it. 

“Up there!” Junhui said excitedly, pointing towards a distant lonely figure at the top of the auditorium.

“Who even-” Jihoon squinted, but Junhui was already dragging him.

It’d come to his complete surprise when his mother had called him downstairs thirty minutes previous, saying that a friend had come over and was calling for him. 

Jihoon had been rightly confused- he never invited people over, ever, and secondly, he didn’t have friends. 

So of course he wasn’t as surprised by the time he got downstairs and found the one person that would’ve invited themselves over and probably claimed him his best friend- Wen Junhui, the eager Chinese boy that’d taken some sort of liking to Jihoon’s cold and boring personality and deemed him the best material to cling to.

And now they were here.

Jihoon came out of his thoughts as he focused on who Junhui had pulled him to- only to find Jeon Wonwoo sitting and staring up at them.

“Hi?” Wonwoo said unsurely, and Junhui tried to sit down on the one seat to Wonwoo’s left. “Oh, no, not there. That seat’s for Mingyu because he can’t stop tapping his legs, ever, and he needs an aisle seat or he’ll be kicking the people in front- well honestly, I doubt anyone else is going to come sit up here. Climb over me and sit on the right, there’s a whole empty row. Soonyoung dragged me up here and I look like an idiot sitting alone when everyone’s thirty rows down, and that’s the only reason I’m letting you two sit here and associate with me.”

This was clearly way too many words for the still-struggling-with-Korean boy, and he just blinked slowly at Wonwoo, who sighed and seized Junhui by the wrist, tucking in his own legs and maneuvering the clumsy boy past his seat. “There.” Wonwoo gently pushed Junhui down into the seat on his immediate right, glad that Jihoon hadn’t brushed past Junhui and taken it. Wonwoo did not want to sit next to Jihoon for two hours.

Junhui excitedly spasmed his legs happily, and Wonwoo wondered if perhaps Mingyu should give up his aisle seat. Jihoon made his way past the two of them, sitting down on Junhui’s right. 

“Great,” Wonwoo exhaled, passing the program to Junhui. “You hold that. Reading practice or something.”

Junhui nodded seriously, holding the paper way too close to his eyes and beginning to read slowly out loud, like a second grader that had been reading picture books for their whole life. Wonwoo groaned. He hated children and he hated teaching children how to read, and unfortunately- although it wasn’t Junhui’s fault- the Mandarin speaker sounded like a floundering elementary schooler. For a fast-paced brain like Wonwoo’s, slow reading- especially slow reading _out loud_ \- was something he detested. Kids were okay, and they were cute when learning words, but put the two together and have a bunch of illiterate primary schoolers all expectantly staring up at him for approval as they horribly sounded out words- Wonwoo shuddered. No doubt why he’d lasted approximately one week that one summer he and Mingyu had volunteered at a camp in their neighborhood. 

Jihoon was patiently helping Junhui with the words he butchered, and Wonwoo let his eyes wander the auditorium, a place he preferred not to be if he could avoid it. The auditorium itself was overdecorated in Wonwoo’s opinion, on account of some arts college giving a grant to Pledis High during its time of construction and funding for the auditorium to be designed with friezes of performers throughout centuries, from robe-claden actors of ancient times to modern actresses with skin like smooth glass. 

Very overkill, Wonwoo decided. All fabricated to hide the no-substance art of theater. 

He enjoyed theater in the form of literature, yes, but classical literature, things that had moral and structure. But he’d always preferred math and science over this art of flashing spotlights and loud bangs and tacky dancing. Math and science were made up of several truths, some things that would never change despite variables and constraints. The arts weren’t like that. Wonwoo didn’t like fluid. He liked stable, solid, reliable things. 

“Speaking of solid,” Wonwoo said out loud, then realized that the other two didn’t know what he was thinking about. “Nevermind. Just- Junhui, I put you on my committee. For presidential campaigns.”

Junhui either didn’t understand or mind, because he just nodded with that beaming smile. 

“Okay,” Wonwoo relied unsurely. “Cool. You’re- you’re good with that?”

“Not doing anything,” was Junhui’s reply. “Something fun to do.”

“He’s glad you’re giving him a hobby,” Jihoon translated. “Isn’t that your friend?”

Wonwoo glanced to where Jihoon was looking, and squinted to see a confused Mingyu wandering inside, looking completely clueless as he scanned the auditorium. “Yeah,” Wonwoo sighed. “He’s mine.”

After a few irritating minutes of Wonwoo texting Mingyu to see him, Mingyu finally navigated his way to their seats, sitting down next to Wonwoo with a blank expression.

“What’s wrong?” Wonwoo asked, wondering if maybe he’d pushed it when texting Mingyu in all caps thirty seconds ago, demanding if the younger was a blind jungle animal that couldn't find one seat in an auditorium. 

However, Mingyu didn’t seem to be put off by that. He merely drew a lollipop out of his jacket pocket, stared at it, and then put it back in, acting more deaf than blind.

“Where’d you get that from?” Wonwoo prodded. “Also, you really shouldn’t have any sugar right now. It’s six PM and I promised your grandmother not to buy you any snacks because your dinner-”

Mingyu turned to stare at Wonwoo, pulling out the lollipop again. “Hyung, how do you know if someone likes you? 

“What?” Wonwoo blinked. 

“Can I eat that?” Junhui asked excitedly.

•

Seungkwan was feeling, if possible, worse. 

He eyed Ryujin across the room, where the pretty sophomore girl was giggling with Nayeon. A bitter taste rose in his mouth as he remembered the events of just a few minutes ago.

_“What is it?” Seungkwan asked, feeling his face heat up as Mingyu dragged him into the choir room._

_“I wanted to give you something,” Mingyu said simply, stopping and turning around to face him._

_“Why would you want to give me-”_

_“I saw about your audition,” Mingyu said, his eyes shining with pity and genuine worry. “And I thought you’d be upset.”_

_“I’m not upset,” Seungkwan said defiantly. He did not want to appear weak in front of Mingyu._

_Mingyu shrugged. “Then consider this repayment for Friday night.” He pulled a small wrapped package from the bag he was holding, handing it to Seungkwan. It was cylindrical, and about as long as a small waterbottle._

_“What’s this?” Seungkwan questioned, sitting down in the nearest chair to open it. There was a small note taped to the paper, and as he untied the small string binding the packaging together he caught a whiff of something sweet and tangy._

_“Well, a lot of people only know me for my body or my handsome face,” Mingyu explained, sitting on the nearest desk. “They don’t know how good I am in the kitchen.”_

_Seungkwan’s eyes doubled in size as he managed to unfurl the packaging to reveal five orange macarons, perfectly made without any dents or cracks._

_“Citrus macarons,” Mingyu explained. “I just made them, you know. Today after school, because I wanted to come give them to you before you performed. That’s why I was with Wonwoo hyung back in the hallway.”_

_Seungkwan blushed. “You made these for me?”_

_“Yeah. Heard you liked citrus flavor,” Mingyu said suddenly, now looking shy. “Um, I hope you don’t have any allergies or anything-”_

_“No, no,” Seungkwan said, still gazing at the adorable macarons. “Thank you so much, hyung, this is so nice of you-”_

_“No problem,” Mingyu said genuinely, his pointy canines revealed as he smiled, and Seungkwan blushed harder still._

_“Mingyu-ssi!”_

_Seungkwan felt himself tensing as Ryujin appeared at his shoulder, beaming at the older boy._

_“Hey,” Mingyu smiled, because he smiled at everyone no matter what. That was the endearing yet troubling thing about Mingyu._

_“I- I have something for you,” Ryujin said shyly, and Seungkwan recognized the flush of her cheeks, because it mirrored his._

_Ryujin pulled a lollipop from her pocket, handing it to Mingyu. “Um… I know you always come by to say good luck to your friends before shows. So… I thought I’d give you something.”_

_“Thanks,” Mingyu said cluelessly, twirling around the lollipop stem. “Why me, though?”_

_Ryujin smiled boldly now. “You know the school dance is soon, right?”_

_Seungkwan felt like he’d been slapped. He felt immensely stupid now, sitting here with these macarons while Ryujin openly flirted with his- not his- with Mingyu over his head._

_He didn’t even have a reason to hate her. Ryujin was talented, bright, pretty, and kind. She’d been the one who conducted his audition, after all. And she’d always been reliable and beyond sweet to everyone. She was allowed to crush on Mingyu. She certainly wasn’t alone._

_It didn’t stop him from feeling like getting up and telling her to screw off._

_“Oh,” Mingyu said with realization, looking shy now, his cheeks coloring to match theirs._

_Ryujin blinked expectantly at him._

_“Um…” Mingyu blushed furiously. “I’ll… um… talk to you later…”_

_“Okay,” Ryujin giggled from embarrassment._

_Mingyu managed one more smile towards Seungkwan before rushing from the room, looking like a first grader that’d just gotten kissed on the playground._

_Seungkwan wanted to sink into the floor._

_God, of course Mingyu would pick Ryujin over him. It wasn’t even a question at this point- Ryujin had made her agenda very open and clear. By giving Mingyu the lollipop, she’d practically asked him out. Seungkwan had just sat here and smiled like an idiot._

So now Seungkwan was bitterly watching Ryujin whisper to Nayeon, both girls giggling madly. There was no doubt which tall, handsome boy they were talking about.

Seungkwan shoved a macaron in his mouth, wishing Seokmin and Soonyoung would come back in here with Jeonghan to make him feel a little more put together. 

•

“You’re sure Chan would like us surprising him?” Minghao asked Hansol skeptically as they walked into the auditorium. They’d just arrived at school via the city bus, both boys having declared to their parents that they were taking their Monday night off from studying and going to the chamber showcase instead. 

“Of course he would want us to be here. Plus, he’ll get all nervous if we go to visit him before, you know. He’s going to feel pressured to perform ‘better’ because he knows we’re watching him.” Hansol scanned the filling auditorium. “Oh- up there. Isn’t that Wonwoo hyung and Mingyu hyung?”

Minghao craned his neck to see, squinting hard. “Yeah, I think so- oh shit. Wait.” he grabbed the back of Hansol’s beige long coat, a ridiculous fashion statement that only the younger boy would wear mid-September. “I can’t go up there.”

“Oh, hyung, I know you’re scared of heights, but it’s really not that bad.”

“No- what the heck? I’m not scared of that kind of height. I mean… I can’t sit with Junhui.”

Hansol furrowed his eyebrows. “What?”

Minghao sighed. “Listen. Over the weekend, you know, after the lacrosse game- how you and Chan took the bus? Well, I went to Junhui’s house and my dad blew up at me. Apparently Junhui being rich and everything doesn’t sit right with my parents, and they think he’s unsafe to hang around with.”

“What? That’s bull. Jun hyung seems so nice.”

“Yeah. I know. But they literally acted like I’d get flayed alive if I talked to him ever again.”

“So? They’re not here.”

Minghao sighed, feeling uneasy. “But that’s like lying…”

“You’re not lying. It’s not like you’ll come back from tonight and the first thing they’ll pop at you is ‘was that Junhui boy there’.”

“You don’t know my parents,” Minghao said darkly. “That sounds exactly like what they’d say.”

Hansol let out a whining sound, scuffing his shoes on the carpet of the auditorium. “Please! They literally won’t know, Hao hyung, come on-”

Minghao hesitantly relented, allowing himself to be pulled up the aisle stairs to where the four boys were sitting- upon getting closer he identified the boy on Junhui’s right to be Lee Jihoon, Wonwoo’s apparently new friend.

Junhui grinned when he saw him, and Jihoon instantly stood, moving one seat away to allow Minghao to sit next to Junhui.

“Why do you look so excited?” Minghao asked Junhui amusedly as he sat down next to him. The older boy smiled wider.

“I’m just glad to see you, after Saturday. Were you in a lot of trouble?” Junhui seemed genuinely upset and worried.

“No, no.” 

“Why was your dad so angry anyway?” Junhui asked as Hansol squeezed past them, no doubt to sit on Jihoon’s right. 

“Nothing,” Minghao mumbled. Junhui was close to becoming what he could call a friend, and he didn’t want to lose the other’s solidarity and friendship before he’d even earned it. Minghao had a hunch that telling Junhui about his parents’ opinions of the upper class would probably serve to be an awkward disintegration of their friendship.

“Well, if he gives any more trouble to you, I’ll tell him how sweet and nice you are,” Junhui said easily, slinging an arm around Minghao’s shoulders. Minghao laughed. 

“What are you doing?”

“Holding my friend.”

Minghao shook his head, amused, and accepted the program that Junhui offered him, skimming over it quietly as he felt his cheeks burn. He wasn’t a touchy person, and other people holding him would make him feel squirmy or uncomfortable, but this was different. He didn’t feel caged in at all. 

“By the way,” Junhui said, and Minghao’s head went up again at the sound of the older boy’s flowing Mandarin, despite hearing it just seconds ago. “What detergent do you use?”

“What?” Minghao asked, confused. 

Junhui turned his head and due to the closeness of the seats plus the way that he’d drawn Minghao so close to him, their faces were so close and-

“Detergent,” Junhui repeated innocently, clearly having no idea what he was doing.

“Oh,” Minghao said, confused why his heart was doing all sorts of acrobatics in his chest. “Um… what?” he repeated.

Junhui clicked his tongue impatiently. “You know, the thing you use to wash your clothes-”

“-I know what detergent is-”

“-and the scent you use is really nice. So I wanted to know what it was.”

“You like it?” Minghao asked, surprised. His parents didn’t care too much about things like that, and he was always particular about scents, so they’d just drop the money in his hand when shopping for toiletries was necessary, and send him off to the corner store as long as he took a friend with him. This led to a good thirty minutes sniffing every soap, detergent, toothpaste container, cream, and perfume as Chan and Hansol- his ‘buddies’ would wander around mindlessly.

Minghao had found the lavender detergent a few months ago and he was convinced he’d never stop buying it. It was perfect.

And now he’d never stop buying it for sure, because Wen Junhui had noticed it and he’d liked it. 

“It’s this lavender one from a corner store close to my place,” Minghao explained.

“Where do you live?” Junhui asked, as a completely logical follow up.

Minghao gulped. Here it came. Now he’d see if his parents had been right about- “This apartment complex… it’s in the city, it’s a bit far from school… I take the bus and stuff.”

Junhui nodded, scanning Minghao’s face. “Why do you look so tense?”

“I’m not tense,” Minghao forced a smile. 

Junhui shrugged. “Okay then.”

Minghao had hoped to gain a better reaction from Junhui to understand what he thought about lower middle class people, but apparently he wasn’t getting that today. 

Then Junhui said, “What’s it like to live in an apartment?”

Minghao whipped his head back towards him. “What?”

Junhui shrugged again, still looking clueless. “I always wanted to live in an apartment when I was little. That’d be so exciting. Just imagine having all your friends living in the same building as you.”

Minghao scoffed. “It’s not that special. And if you’ve got rude or noisy neighbors the whole thing’s ruined.”

Junhui stretched, and let go of Minghao as he crossed his arms over his chest instead. Minghao felt rather disappointed about that, but he couldn’t understand why. “I suppose there’s college for that whole dorm-room experience.”

“Yeah,” Minghao sighed. “I’m going back to China for college. I really don’t want to be near my parents.”

“Come with me, then,” Junhui offered. “I’m not staying here any longer than I have to- wait, did you say your parents?”

Minghao shrugged, a melancholy smile on his lips. “My parents and I have a special relationship.”

Junhui looked sad. “Really? That’s… I wish everyone had parents like mine. It always makes me feel down to hear that people’s parents don’t… parent.”

“I don’t mind. I’ll be away from them soon, so.”

“Let’s elope, like in a drama,” Junhui said, completely serious.

Minghao lightly smacked his shoulder. “Hello? That’s what couples do.”

“Yeah. That’s part of the plan. We can pretend to be a couple, and your parents sound like they’d be homophobic. They’d want nothing to do with you.” Junhui seemed to seriously consider this, his eyebrows furrowed in concentration. “And I’ll pay for your college too. That money is a drop in the ocean for my dad.”

Minghao chuckled. “Very well thought out. We’ll see.”

“Thanks.” Junhui squirmed excitedly. “I love these kinds of shows.”

“You know it’s just… they’re just going to stand there and sing, you know that right?”

“Yeah!” Junhui’s expression brimmed with excitement. 

“Whatever fills your cup of tea,” Minghao decided.

•

Soonyoung felt nine pairs of eyes on him.

They were all clustered in a circle, the ten of them, their hands placed on top of each others. 

“First showcase of the year!” Soonyoung said excitedly. “First showcase, our first chance to give everyone a taste of what we’ve been working on for months!”

Everyone was vibrating with happy energy, and it made Soonyoung feel further bolstered to continue.

“We’ve spent hours and hours in the practice rooms, we’ve put so much effort and hard work into these songs and to make this show as good as possible!” Soonyoung continued, nearly yelling with enthusiasm. Everyone was grinning now, even Jeonghan through his still-swollen eyes, even Seungkwan, who’d been looking miserable seconds ago. Seokmin flashed him a smile from across the circle, and Chan managed a nervous one when Soonyoung met the youngest’s eyes.

“We’re going to go out there and sing with everything we got,” Soonyoung continued, knowing that this message was subtly going to the more anxious members of the circle. “This is the first showcase for some of us-” a look at the two pale freshmen- “and one of the last for our seniors.” A glance at Jeonghan and Jihyo, who were watching the others solemnly, as if they’d realized that they’d never have another start of the year showcase as Pledis Chamber members. “So let’s do our best and remember that this night isn’t about the perfection, it’s about showing our teamwork and the beauty that we can create when we all come together to make music. If you make a mistake, keep going. Rely on your members. We’ll keep you stable. And if you fall off the pitch or get off beat- just take a breath and jump back in. We’ll hold each other up like we have in rehearsals.” Soonyoung’s eyes swept the circle again, and he felt that leap of energy burn a flame in his heart as a wave of anticipation crashed into him, a yearning to stand under the blazing spotlights, a yearning for that feeling he hadn’t had all summer. “Sing with everything you have, okay? That’s all you need to do.”

Nayeon and Sana cheered as the entire group hugged, everyone now charged with that ready energy, a palpable buzz in the air as they headed out of the choir room and down the hallway to the auxiliary door that’d take them backstage.

Chan was pale faced but smiling, Jeonghan wrapping an arm around the younger boy as they hid in the curtains. Seokmin was trembling with energy and happiness, Seungkwan beaming with excitement. Nayeon was straight-faced now, clearly running over her lines in her head. Ryujin was humming softly to herself, Sana was talking quietly with Jihyo and Momo. They were ready. 

“And now, ladies and gentlemen,” came a voice from the stage as they waited behind the curtain. Seungcheol- who always MC’ed for the chamber nights, being school president and an avid fan of his boyfriend’s choir- had added a level of flair to his voice tonight, and it reverberated through the auditorium. “They’ve been working hard all summer to deliver this performance to you! _Heng:garae_ , the celebration of youth, an idea symbolized through their music and lyrics meant to empower other young people fighting through the struggles of life.” Seungcheol paused as applause echoed through the large hall. The ten students all looked at each other, wide eyed even in the backstage darkness. They’d never heard that much applause- this year’s showcase was certainly being anticipated strongly. 

“And now, without further ado, please welcome the seventeenth chapter of Pledis High School’s Chamber Singers!” Seungcheol announced, and Jeonghan and Jihyo moved to the front, giving their members a reassuring last smile before they strode on stage to powerful applause.

The coveted burning spotlight was on him finally, and Soonyoung felt his entire body alight with the energy that came before a showstopping performance.

•

Joshua lounged in his front row seat.

He’d gotten here after pretending to act like a frightened deer when Seungcheol had stormed into the choir room, stealing away before the couple would start bickering. 

Seokmin was already hooking up his guitar, Jihyo sitting down at the piano as Momo adjusted the drum set to her height as she set up. Joshua'd learned the names of these people barely thirty minutes ago, when Jeonghan had been pointing them out to him while he’d done the older boy’s hair.

Joshua zeroed in on Jeonghan now, noting the puffiness of his eyes. Someone had been crying. Joshua felt his heart pang slightly. He’d only wanted to annoy Seungcheol, not mess up Jeonghan’s night. 

Jeonghan accepted the mic from Seungcheol, averting his eyes from his boyfriend as he raised it to his lips. “The first song tonight is an acoustic remix of our song _Fearless_ from last year. We composed it using-” Jeonghan’s face flushed as he stumbled over his words, and Soonyoung gave him a gentle squeeze on the shoulder. Seungcheol stepped closer, showing Jeonghan the script subtly. Jeonghan flushed darker and continued, glancing at the paper. No doubt he was flustered from their supposed argument earlier. 

Jeonghan took a deep breath. “We composed it using a blend of acoustic sound and an acapella-style harmony part. This piece is meant to reflect on the strong emotion that comes with pushing oneself to confront their fears. Please enjoy.”

The audience all clapped politely, and Joshua let out a whoop just to be obnoxious. The sooner his parents got him out of this hellhole, the better. Might as well cause problems as much as he could.

Jeonghan had clearly heard- and recognized his voice, and blushed furiously, handing the mic back to Seungcheol as he walked to his spot on the stage. Seungcheol glared down at Joshua- for he’d made himself pretty visible- and after receiving the cue from the singers, walked off the stage so the audience would be focused on the group as Seokmin strummed the first chord and the sopranos burst into a three part harmony.

Joshua leaned back in his seat, dreamily watching Jeonghan sing. Gods, he was so beautiful. He didn’t need to slide his eyes over to the wings of the stage to know that Seungcheol was definitely still glaring at him from where he was hidden slightly offstage.

Joshua grinned, erupting into cheers with the rest of the audience as the first song ended. 

Tonight was going to be so much fun.

•

Chan was having the time of his life.

He’d never performed on a stage like this, never performed for so many people- and the fact that this wasn’t even an official concert, just a showcase… the fact that there’d be more people when Chamber had their first concert… it filled him with happiness and excitement.

Throughout the songs he kept beaming, even when he should’ve really been straight faced.

This was just everything he’d dreamed of and more. This was bliss. 

He understood what Soonyoung meant now, what it felt like to have a hundred pairs of eyes on you and a blazing white spotlight on your face, exposing yourself for everyone to see. 

He understood what it felt like to be a star, a real artist, revolving slowly and basking in the light of that spotlight, blind to the people watching him, immersed in the music and the notes and the song and the beauty that he was producing. 

It nearly brought him to tears, this feeling of belonging and understanding, of being one with the melody, of being intertwined with the song. This feeling of being here and singing his heart out, this feeling of finally realizing this was where he was meant to be as he clutched the mic in his hand.

Chan had sung since he was little, but he’d really only tried out for the Chamber audition because all his theater hyungs that were already in high school and the group itself had begged him to. He’d been pretty sure he wouldn’t make it, and at that time he’d been conflicted of what life path he’d want to take. He’d also tried out for the dance team randomly, again only because Soonyoung and Minghao had persuaded him to, referencing the years of dance he’d built up because his parents had wanted him to be ‘well rounded’ and ‘have artistic hobbies’. To his surprise, he’d gotten into both the Chamber group as well as the varsity dance team. 

Over the summer, Chan had gone back and forth in conflict, unsure of if he wanted to pursue music as his own dream or follow his parents’ wishes for him and become a doctor or attorney. He thought he’d settled on a final choice- he thought perhaps it was best to just give in and let his parents be happy. Although they preached the importance of the arts and supported him singing and dancing, he knew they wouldn’t approve him considering those as life paths or possible careers. He knew that they only cared about those interests for the college applications and that they probably hadn’t even considered the possibility that he wanted to apply to a music or performance school. 

But now, on this stage with nothing but the music and lights, he knew that he’d never be happy unless he chased after the glory of performance. Because the stage was his addiction, and music was his healing and poison all at once, it was what brought color into his life but disapproval into his parents’ minds.

An hour later, Chan closed his eyes at the final note of the final song, listening to the thunderous applause of the audience resonate through the auditorium, and let himself smile as the lights dimmed and the curtain slowly closed.

Yes, here he was happy. 

Here, he was complete. 

•

“That was _amazing_!” 

“Hey, wait-” Wonwoo restrained Mingyu from launching on their tired friends when they went to see them after the show to congratulate them.

“Give them a moment to breathe,” Wonwoo chided, and Mingyu smiled sheepishly as Seokmin threw his water aside, still panting but already hugging Mingyu tightly. “Don’t encourage him, Seokmin.”

Jihoon found himself laughing, although a part of him was still unsure what he was doing here. He glanced around the choir room, where they’d all clustered after the show. The girls- Jihoon didn’t really know them- were busy with their own friends on the other side of the room, and all the guys were standing here, thirteen people all in a circle chatting happily.

Junhui, Minghao, and Hansol were all cooing over a still-excited Chan, Seungcheol was sulking on Jeonghan’s right as Joshua talked away on the blonde’s left. Mingyu was gushing to Seokmin about the show, Wonwoo smiling fondly and exasperatedly as he held onto Mingyu, quietly reminding the younger to lower his volume every once in a while. Seungkwan was distracted, trying to talk to Chan, but he kept glancing in Wonwoo and Mingyu’s direction. And Soonyoung-

“How’d you like the show?” An arm draped over Jihoon’s shoulder, and Soonyoung grinned at him, his hair damp with sweat from standing under the hot stage lights for an hour. 

“It was nice,” Jihoon said politely, uncomfortable to be held so closely.

“Oh- sorry-” Soonyoung let him go. “I forgot that you’re not a people person.”

Jihoon shrugged. “Never had the chance to be one. I’ve never had friends.”

Soonyoung’s eyes widened. “What do you mean, never had friends?”

Wonwoo glanced over, evidently listening.

Jihoon grinned bitterly. “When you spend a lot of time in books you lose time to make friends with others.”

“So… you’re happier off that way?”

Jihoon shrugged again. “We’re not friends, so I still am living that way.”

“What?” Soonyoung’s eyes widened further. “Yes we are!”

“We aren’t friends,” Wonwoo cut Soonyoung off, quickly turning back to remind Mingyu to speak quieter again. He didn’t turn back around, leaving an awkward silence between Soonyoung and Jihoon.

Jihoon shifted from one foot to another. “Um… I should go-”

“Wait! Everyone wait-” Mingyu called out the attention of everyone in the circle, and they all looked around as he put a bag down, reaching in and drawing out several cylinder-shaped packages wrapped in pretty paper.

Seungkwan suddenly looked pale and upset. Jihoon wondered why.

“I made macarons for everyone,” Mingyu explained. “Thirteen of us, right? I hope I counted right. It’s just because this is the first chamber showcase and everyone’s all together for once. They’re all different flavors for what each of you like- I’m sorry but I didn’t know what some of your favorite flavors were, so I kind of guessed…”

Jihoon moved a little closer with everyone else, wondering if Mingyu had actually made something for him.

“I gave Seungkwannie his before the show because… well, it’s our secret. Chocolate for Jeonghan hyung- Chan, yours too… Minghao, Seungcheol hyung, Wonwoo hyung, here’s matcha flavor… Joshua hyung, I’m sorry but I didn’t know, so I made you strawberry along with Seokmin hyung and Hansol hyung… then there’s hyungs who like vanilla-” Mingyu paused to read out the names he’d written on the little packages. “Soonyoung hyung, Junhui hyung- I asked Minghao for you- and Jihoon hyung!”

Jihoon evidently looked surprised as Mingyu handed him the present, and the younger boy laughed. “What?”

Everyone was busy opening the boxes and cooing over the macarons, so Jihoon had a moment with the tall sophomore. “You didn’t have to do this, you know…”

“But you guys are my friends,” Mingyu said, his innocent doe eyes reflecting the genuineness of his statement. “Why wouldn’t I?”

There it was again. That word. Friends. 

Jihoon wasn’t even sure why he’d been included in this group. It was a good feeling but overwhelming too. 

“Thanks,” Jihoon said, pocketing the macarons. “I’ve got to head home now, so…”

“Get home safely, hyung!” Mingyu nearly hugged him, then held himself back. “Right. Wonwoo hyung said you don’t like being touched.”

Jihoon chuckled. “Did he now. Bye!”

He waved at Mingyu, earning a wave from Soonyoung as well as he headed out of the choir room, his heart somehow lighter even though his pocket weighed a little more.

Friends.

•

“I just don’t get why you’re so quiet all of a sudden,” Seokmin prodded for what must be the third time as they walked home. It was nearing eight and the sky was a velveteen midnight color already, the stars refusing to come out tonight.

“I’m not quiet,” Seungkwan said, although he knew he was. He couldn’t help it. 

He’d stupidly, dumbly, naively thought that Mingyu had meant for him only to have the macarons, like it was something special in between the two of them.

Seungkwan let out a bitter chuckle and Seokmin heard. “Seriously, what’s going on? Is this about the musical-”

“Nothing,” Seungkwan snapped. “Just leave it, hyung, okay?”

Seokmin retreated into a shocked silence. 

It did nothing to make Seungkwan feel better.

•

“Bye, Shua,” Jeonghan said as Joshua got out of the door. “See you tomorrow morning.” His voice was dull and without the usual flair, and a sense of shame washed over Seungcheol. 

“See ya, hyungs,” Joshua replied lightly, shutting the car door and heading towards his house.

The car was left in silence. 

“Let’s go home,” Jeonghan said quietly. “My parents will be waiting for me.”

Seungcheol drummed his fingers on the steering wheel, reluctant to start driving. He glanced at his boyfriend once. Jeonghan’s face was obscured by his hair, those soft floppy locks that Seungcheol adored so much and had only admired more when Jeonghan had gone ahead and bleached and permed them. Jeonghan’s face was cast in shadow from the closest streetlight pole, his dark wide eyes shining with some emotion Seungcheol couldn’t place.

“Let’s have dinner together,” Seungcheol offered. “On me. Before you go home.”

Jeonghan shook his head miserably. “I’m okay.”

“Please. Come on, Han. We need to talk about Joshua-”

“Just let me go home, Cheol,” Jeonghan said, his voice breaking, and Seungcheol didn’t know if it was from the vocal strain of the performance or something else. 

Tears began leaking from Jeonghan’s eyes, and Seungcheol had his answer.

“I don’t want you to go home like this,” Seungcheol said gently.

“I don’t want to talk to you after how you spoke to me,” Jeonghan replied, still sniffling on his tears. “Drive me home, please.”

Seungcheol sighed, still hesitant. “Han. Baby. Please.”

Jeonghan remained quiet, his whole body trembling as it always did when he cried but tried his best not to.

Seungcheol reached out, taking Jeonghan’s hand. “I was just angry, okay? It was a weird thing to walk in on. I’m not mad at you, not really. It’s more about him touching other people’s boyfriends like that.”

“He was just doing my hair,” Jeonghan whispered, sounding weak and sad.

Seungcheol gave him a smile that was just as weak and sad. “You’re not that stupid.”

Jeonghan stared at him for a few seconds, his face hardening as his gaze turned to ice, and then he pulled his hand away, reaching for the car door. “I’m walking home.”

“Baby, wait-” Seungcheol grabbed for him, but Jeonghan was already standing outside the car, out of reach. “Wait, Han, it’s literally three streets away and it’s dark out. Come back into the car, please, your parents trust me to get you home safe every day. Don’t be dramatic, Han-”

“It seems that nobody trusts me at all,” Jeonghan said angrily, already slamming the car door shut. “Leave me alone.”

“Han!” Seungcheol shouted, but Jeonghan was already striding off down the sidewalk, his stupidly cute hair bouncing up and down with every step he took, his steps quick and irritable.

Seungcheol sighed and let his forehead rest against the steering wheel of the car as Jeonghan disappeared into the darkness at the end of the street. He left a quick text to his boyfriend, asking him in the shortest amount of words possible to at least let him know when he’d reached home safely, before raising his head.

There was the strange feeling that he was being watched.

Seungcheol turned his head towards Joshua’s house, and saw the latter in a window. Fury overcame him at the idea of the obnoxious boy watching all of that-

Joshua merely waved towards Seungcheol, looking like he had no cares in the world as he shut his curtains a second later.

Seungcheol cursed and lightly pounded his steering wheel, causing a honk to echo around the street. 

Wincing, he set the gear into drive, deciding it’d be best for everyone if he just went home.

What a lousy day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so this is the start of act two!  
> i’ve decided that we’re going to run the story in sections and every seventeen chapters will be the end of an act. 
> 
> i’ve also planned out until around chapter 40, so contents will be coming out quickly! again sorry for the wait, i decided to think abt formatting as i reached the seventeenth chapter bc obv that number can be significant and i’d like to use it as a format marker. 
> 
> expect the next chapter within three days!
> 
> make sure to leave a kudos or comment! 
> 
> tell someone you love them today! i love all of you <3  
> -mingyuwu


	20. 18. tuesday lunch hours and dance auditions

“You guys sounded really good yesterday,” Wonwoo said rather shyly as he sat down next to Soonyoung, the latter already opening his books. He hadn’t had the chance to talk to Soonyoung after the show, but he couldn’t help but be grudgingly amazed by the skill of the singers.

Soonyoung grinned at him. “So how were the best seats in the house?”

“They were alright,” Wonwoo admitted. 

An eyebrow raise. “Just alright?”

“Mingyu loved the view.”

Soonyoung put an arm around Wonwoo’s chair, leaning in until his face was inches away from Wonwoo’s. “I’m not asking about Mingyu,” Soonyoung said, his voice low as a smirk spread on his lips. “I’m asking about _you_ , Won.”

Wonwoo flushed. What else was he supposed to do if Soonyoung pushed his face in his?

“Hyung- stop.” Wonwoo pushed Soonyoung away.

Soonyoung broke out of character, giggling. “It’s so easy to fluster you, you know? Just a simple ‘Won’ and a little leaning in and you _lose_ it.”

“I don’t like people in my space,” Wonwoo said with as much dignity as he could shore up, flipping through his folder. “And let’s see who’ll be flustered in a few minutes. I’ve made a very special present for you, for the success of your showcase. Not macarons; sadly. Mingyu always plays good cop so I have to be his alter ego.” Wonwoo placed a sheet of paper face-down in front of Soonyoung. “Congratulations.”

“What’s this?” Soonyoung questioned, reaching for it.

Wonwoo sharply grasped Soonyoung’s wrist, stilling it in place as he set a ten minute timer on his phone. “Five CSAT math section III practice problems.” 

“ _What?_ ”

“Congratulations,” Wonwoo repeated, and now it was his turn to smirk. “Your present for last night. Time starts- now!”

As Soonyoung cursed and flipped the paper over, his eyebrows creasing with a frown as he bent his head to the page, already scrawling as he annotated the problems, Wonwoo scanned the neighboring shelves, leaning back in his chair with a satisfied smile.

A figure meandered from the shelves, and the smile dropped from Wonwoo’s face incredibly fast. 

“Do you have anywhere else in this library to go?” Wonwoo demanded Jihoon, who hesitated momentarily, holding yet another goddamn book.

“Shut up, Wonwoo, he’s my friend so he gets to sit here,” Soonyoung said, his eyes never leaving the page.

“If all of your friends sat here, this table would be a zoo,” Wonwoo snapped back at him.

Jihoon was still standing next to their table, looking like an abandoned animal, and Soonyoung glanced up. “Sit down, come on!”

Wonwoo rolled his eyes as Jihoon sat down. 

“Why do you two hate each other?” Soonyoung prodded.

“I should be asking that question to you,” Jihoon replied. “One would have to be blind to miss the tension between you and Wonwoo.” 

Wonwoo blanched and Soonyoung turned red. 

“None of your business,” Soonyoung mumbled, and went back to his practice test.

Jihoon folded his legs, putting his book in his lap. “To be honest, I don’t know why Wonwoo’s so bothered by me.”

“You shouldn’t be anymore, Wonwoo,” Soonyoung agreed. “Jihoon’s our debate preparation helper now, for the campaign. Be nice to him or he’ll screw you over.”

Jihoon chuckled over his book. 

“It’s not _Jihoon_ specifically, he’s just the primary issue,” Wonwoo said with a touch of asperity. “I’m trying to tutor Soonyoung and he’s sitting with us!”

“You sound like a teenage girl trying to close her door to keep her parents out because she’s trying to flirt with a boy over the phone,” Jihoon said exasperatedly. “Please shut up.”

Wonwoo went from pale to tomato, and shut his mouth, pressing his lips together to keep from making a noise of strangled disgust as he stared around at the shelves of books.

“Done,” Soonyoung announced, and Jihoon looked up curiously as Wonwoo checked the time. 

“Are you sure? You still have two minutes left on the clock.”

“Yeah,” Soonyoung said, pushing the paper across.

Doubtfully, Wonwoo took the piece of paper, getting out the answer key he’d printed with it and beginning to check it over. Soonyoung began humming lightly, and Jihoon went back to his book.

“Well,” Wonwoo exhaled a few minutes later, staring down at the paper. “Hm.”

“How bad is it?” Soonyoung asked.

“You…” Wonwoo winced. “You didn’t get a single one.”

Soonyoung clicked his tongue. “Fitting. I’m nowhere near CSAT level, what’d you expect when you flung a test on me?”

“It’s… it may seem discouraging,” Wonwoo said slowly, handing the paper to Soonyoung. “And I know I’m no professional tutor but… we’re going to have to work way harder now.”

“Great.” Soonyoung tossed his pencil onto the table. 

“Extra time with the ex boyfriend,” Jihoon sniped from across the table.

“Shut up,” Soonyoung and Wonwoo said simultaneously, then glared at each other.

“Anyways, if we put in some CSAT practice sessions… we can see your progress when we do the official PCSAT in a month.” Wonwoo chewed his lip, eyeing Soonyoung’s work again. “Maybe more than _some_ sessions.”

“I’m busy with other things,” Soonyoung blurted out. “I’m in charge of dance auditions to fill in an ex member tonight, and once we get the new person we have to start up practices again, and the musical rehearsals are starting soon, plus soccer-”

“Colleges don’t care about those things. They care about seeing exponentially more than a failing score on your CSAT,” Wonwoo said, as kindly as he could. It didn’t really work.

Soonyoung scowled. “Whatever. I’m a gone case. Maybe you should just focus on tutoring me for calculus.”

“I can’t let you fail,” Wonwoo said patiently. “Especially because I’ve taken a lot of PCSATs and know how they work.”

Wonwoo certainly did- all summer he’d locked himself in his room, finding practice CSATs online and taking every single one. 

“If you’re sure,” Soonyoung said doubtfully. “I don’t want to add to your… things that you’ve got to do.”

Wonwoo shrugged. “Just one more thing on the list. We’ll set up sessions outside of school for CSAT practice. There’s plenty of PCSATs online too, so we’ll have lots of resources.”

“What am I signing myself up for?” Soonyoung sighed, and Jihoon laughed softly to himself. 

“I’ll help you,” Wonwoo said calmly. “I promise.”

“A promise from Jeon Wonwoo?” Soonyoung smirked at him. “I’ll take that to the bank.”

•

Junhui let out a breath as he stood outside the doors to dance practice room A, staring at the poster.

**TUESDAY SEPTEMBER 29, DANCE TEAM AUDITIONS**

_We have had a member leave the dance team unexpectedly, and for this reason will be holding an audition for those interested. Please note that the audition takes place after school on Tuesday, the 29th of September._

_This is an open audition. You may prepare any song(s) and come to perform for us with your own musical accompaniment and if desired, a costume that goes with your selections. Outfits will not be scored as part of your audition, but we’d love to see your sense of style! We recommend preparing around 2-3 songs in case our judging panel wishes to see a greater range of your skills. Please expect the results the night of the audition._

_Good luck!_

This sign had been up that day he’d come and seen Minghao and Soonyoung dancing, his second day here. But he’d been so quick to get away that he hadn’t seen it. Then, a few days later, when wandering around, he’d come across it again and this time had taken a picture, knowing it was too wordy for him to decipher the long Korean all while standing in front of it. 

He’d plugged it all into a translator app and gotten the rough message of it, and therefore had dug up some old videos of his dance performances from China and begun to learn the routines in his basement over the weekend. He’d also come dressed in a body-hugging black leotard with shimmering lace sleeves- one from a performance he’d done a few months ago in China. It was his favorite dancewear and he supposed it was a lucky charm, too. Not to mention that he looked good in it. 

Junhui supposed that there wasn’t really any point of him auditioning. They probably wanted flashy, cool dancers like Minghao or extroverted personas like Soonyoung. His contemporary, flexible, twirly kind of dance wasn’t appreciated in this kind of atmosphere.

Well, whatever.

“Next!” came a voice from inside, a voice very familiar and a voice that Junhui really wished wasn’t here. It was a lovely voice, really, in Korean and Mandarin, but he didn’t want that person to be here when he made a fool out of himself.

He gulped and opened the door, sidling inside. 

“Jun hyung! You’re a dancer?” Minghao asked, smiled at him. He was sitting at a table with Soonyoung and another boy that Junhui didn’t know, with nearly shoulder length golden hair that was tied half up, a few locks done in tiny braids. Maybe boys bleaching their hair was a style here. 

“Of sorts,” Junhui replied cryptically, getting out his phone and pairing it with the speaker. He hoped he sounded mysterious and not like someone who could barely speak Korean. 

Soonyoung clapped excitedly, leaning back in his seat. “Did you sign up after school or something? Because you didn’t even tell us and I saw your name at the end of the list when we came in here to start auditions! This is Hyunjin, by the way, Hwang Hyunjin- he’s in our year.”

The blonde smiled easily, dimples appearing on his cheeks. “I co-run Varsity Hyacinth with Soonyoung.”

Junhui blinked at him. “Hyacinth? Like flowers?” He wasn’t sure if maybe he’d just misheard. Everyone here talked so fast.

“Yeah,” Hyunjin laughed. “We have so many different styles of dance here at Pledis, so we actually have two teams, split up by the school colors- but we do come together for a lot of performances. There’s Varsity Hyacinth, which represents blue, and it focuses on hip hop and rock-pop elements.”

“We also have Varsity Orchid, which I run,” Minghao said smoothly in Mandarin, his eyes twinkling when Junhui glanced at him. “It represents- as you’ve probably figured out- the pink. We focus on contemporary jazz and ballet styles, if that’s your cup of tea.”

Junhui _had_ to stop smiling. Minghao just really loved saying ‘cup of tea’ and it was endearing.

“Wait, you’re from China?” Hyunjin said, looking interested. “Hao was talking to you in Mandarin.”

“Yes,” Junhui said. “Not… fluent.”

“I’m helping Junhui out a bit,” Minghao explained.

“That’s cool, man,” Hyunjin said, looking actually impressed. “I’ve heard trained Chinese dancers are amazing, and I mean- look at Minghao! I can’t wait to see your audition.”

Junhui felt his shoulders drop with relief. They weren’t going to disqualify him for barely being able to talk. Soonyoung seemed to notice.

“We really welcome everyone,” Soonyoung assured him. “It doesn’t matter how much you can speak. We’re here to make a show, you know? And we bond through movement. That’s the nice thing about dance. Everyone can speak that language.”

Junhui beamed.

“So, which group are you trying out for?” Minghao asked, writing down Junhui’s name on the form.

“Probably Orchid,” Junhui said apologetically. “I’m not… hip hop.” 

“Equally cool,” Soonyoung shrugged. “Minghao’s been looking for a co-president. That’s the person who left, actually- the other person that managed Orchid. We’re just opening auditions to everyone, but honestly we really need someone to co-run Orchid with Minghao.”

“I don’t think… I’m good… co-president,” Junhui said apologetically.

Hyunjin winked, pulling his notepad in his lap. “We’ll be the deciders of that. Let’s see it!”

Junhui was immensely glad that these were the people screening him. He didn’t really know Hyunjin but he seemed just as cool as Minghao and Soonyoung. 

He took a deep breath and stilled his nerves. This was just another performance, just another show.

And the music swept through the studio and he was lost to the rest of the world.

He felt his body moving, his limbs twining and twisting, his mind empty and free as he spun through the air and left everything behind in exchange for the music and the beat and the flow of it all.

Junhui had acted, danced, and participated in martial arts as a very young child, but by the time he’d reached middle school he’d left acting for his education. The only thing he’d managed to preserve was his passion for dancing. Junhui had won many regional awards for his routines. 

When they’d moved here, the last week had been so hectic that he hadn’t the time to prepare properly. He was literally relying on muscle memory to get himself through, because he knew that a few hours spent in his basement weren’t enough on their own. This audition was being done on a whim, but he was going to give it his all because Xu Minghao was watching. 

Junhui became deaf to everything but the rhythm and the sound of his feet lightly hitting the ground every few seconds, the feeling of every particle of his body moving to his will, the sensation of sweat beading on his temples, the way breath became harder to catch as he immersed himself further, the pound of his heart in sync with the beat. 

The music ended too soon, and Junhui completed a final whirl before standing up straight, his leotard sticking to his chest, hair falling over his eyes, his mouth dry and parched from breathing so hard. 

It was silent for a minute. Hyunjin was wide-eyed, Soonyoung was writing his evaluation so fast that his hand nearly seemed blurred, and Minghao was smiling at Junhui over his clipboard, as if they were in on a secret that nobody else knew about. 

Junhui accepted the water bottle that Hyunjin pressed into his hands, unscrewing it and holding it to his lips, gulping water as fast as he could. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d danced with that level of emotion and rapid movement. His heart was thundering in his chest. He didn’t know if it was because of the sudden extreme workout or Minghao’s little smile or his nerves in general.

“Do you have another song prepared?” Soonyoung asked, still writing. Junhui blinked. Soonyoung sounded as if he’d snapped a professional filter over his voice.

“I do. Two more.”

Soonyoung beamed now, and gestured to the speakers. “Pull them up. We want to see.”

Junhui wasn’t sure if that was a good or bad sign. People here were so poker-faced.

And so Junhui danced for them twice more, and soon it was over again, and the room was silent as Soonyoung scribbled on his notes and Hyunjin stared at Junhui and Minghao smiled to himself. 

It was quiet for a bit longer as Soonyoung finished writing his notes down, Hyunjin humming as he made some of his own annotations and shot Junhui a smile. Junhui didn’t know the boy well enough to know if it was genuine or just polite. Minghao was smiling very hard but trying to hide it, his eyes sparkling.

“You did really well,” Soonyoung complimented, consulting his notes. “I’m- I think we all are- very impressed. Your way of conveying emotion through movement, your choice of song, it was all carefully done and done to a level that shows that you know what you’re doing. Beautiful performance.” 

“It was really beautiful,” Minghao added in Mandarin. “I couldn’t keep my eyes off of the routine. Every part of it was just so intricate and entrancing that I can tell you’ve put so much effort and work in it. I loved it.”

Junhui nodded, a smile spreading on his lips despite how hard he tried to maintain professionalism. “Thank you,” he replied in Mandarin, repeating the same in Korean.

Hyunjin leaned back in his seat, skimming over his evaluation. “Okay, well, first off, contemporary isn’t my style but you’ve made it work incredibly. Like- amazing. I don’t remember the last time I was drawn into a contemporary performance like this. It’s… it’s really fascinating, and your skill level seems to be way beyond what other people can catch up with. I’m super impressed.”

Minghao translated this comment for him, seeing as Hyunjin used a lot of words and common language that Junhui knew he looked unsure of. 

“Thank you for your time,” Junhui bowed once to the judges. 

Soonyoung flashed him a smile. “I can’t say much, but I think you should keep an eye on your phone tonight.” 

Junhui flushed with the instinctive sense of preemptive victory as he left the room.

And sure enough, two hours later, during dinner, Junhui’s phone rang in the living room and he excused himself, dashing out of the dining room and scooping up the mobile faster than he ever had.

“Hello?” Junhui said nervously. There were three numbers displayed on the screen, a group call- one was Minghao’s, the other Soonyoung’s, and the third was unknown. “What’s going on?”

He earned an explosion of cheering sounds from Soonyoung, Minghao laughing through the phone as Hyunjin whooped, all three of them welcoming him not only onto Varsity Orchid but also the Dance Leaders Panel as Minghao’s co-president. 

Junhui laughed and thanked them, rushing back into the dining room with the phone still on speaker, yelling to his entire family about this achievement, the other boys echoing his happiness through the phone. His father leapt up nearly as fast as Junhui had seconds earlier, enveloping him in a tight hug as his mother watched fondly, Taihua and Weiyuan dancing around the dining room and the twins clapping with excitement. Jian didn’t say much, obviously, but the baby was giggling with happiness and Junhui was content with that.

He was more than content.

Maybe he’d finally found a place for himself. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this feels like a filler chapter and i’m not too happy abt that but at least there’s soonwoo am i right? 
> 
> i’ll see you guys in a few days!! super busy rn so can’t reply to comments but i promise i’ve seen all of them and you guys are the sweetest n most supportive ever!!!
> 
> tell someone u love them today! i love all of u <3  
> -mingyuwu


	21. 19. birthday dinners and unfortunate run-ins

“Did you get everything down?” Jeonghan asked Seungcheol, leaning over his boyfriend and wrapping his arms around him as he let his chin rest on Seungcheol’s head, gazing at the laptop screen.

“I think so,” Seungcheol said, scrolling through the notes of the Monday afternoon government meeting that’d adjourned minutes ago. “So the dance is going to be on October 16th, we’ll do a retro theme…”

“I’m excited for that,” Jeonghan agreed, waving at some students that were still leaving the classroom. “This theme is so much more refreshing than last year’s.”

They were both painfully aware of how strained their conversation was. It was obvious- had been for a _week_. They hadn’t talked about the incident last Monday, just exchanged an understanding hug on Tuesday and held each other’s hand all day as if to make up for things. It seemed to have worked, but only to an extent; Seungcheol felt like he had been walking on eggshells around Jeonghan for the last week, too hesitant to bring up their argument because he didn’t want to ruin whatever kind of peace they had right now. Jeonghan seemed like he wanted to forget what had happened, and as long as he was no longer upset Seungcheol was willing to throw the issue out the window. 

But it seemed like Seungcheol’s words had definitely had some affect on Jeonghan, throughout the government meeting he’d clung to Seungcheol whenever Joshua came close or spoke (Seungcheol wasn’t really sure why Joshua was even in government but he supposed he knew the primary reason). And Joshua had, over the course of the meeting, slowly lost the smirk on his face, replaced by a sulking, irritable look- and had been one of the first to leave when Seungcheol had called the end of the meeting. 

Seungcheol grinned now at the thought of Joshua’s frustration, wrapping his hand around Jeonghan’s wrist and pulling him around the chair, gently pushing him to sit on the table so he could see his face. “So, birthday boy, where do you want to go today?”

Jeonghan’s birthday had actually been yesterday, but because he’d been with his family, who’d wanted to use the Sunday off to celebrate, Seungcheol had decided he’d shower him with love today.

Jeonghan blushed. “I- I don’t want to go anywhere… just a small dinner or something would be nice.”

“But you’re eighteen!”

“Eighteen isn’t even that special, Cheol…”

“Shut up, you’re special. Now tell me. Dad got me a new credit card last week and I’ve been waiting to inaugurate it.”

“But…”

Seungcheol pulled Jeonghan into his lap, and the other boy squeaked slightly as he regained his balance, his cheeks flushing as he grasped Seungcheol’s shoulders, his legs settling to straddle the slightly older boy. “Cheol!”

This wasn’t new for them, but Seungcheol knew that Jeonghan was always shyer at school. 

“I want to treat you today so please let me,” Seungcheol said earnestly, cupping Jeonghan’s face in his hands and kissing him gently.

“I know you do,” Jeonghan exhaled a laugh against Seungcheol’s lips. “And by the way, if someone comes in-”

“I don’t care,” Seungcheol replied, leaning forward in his seat and pressing Jeonghan’s back against the table as they kissed deeply, Jeonghan wrapping his legs around Seungcheol’s torso. “Let them see.”

“Let’s leave,” Jeonghan suggested. “Your car is way more private.”

Seungcheol pulled away at that, his eyebrows raised in an imitation of judgemental conservatism. “Private? _What_ are you thinking about, Yoon? Such dirty implications.” He teasingly tugged on Jeonghan’s tie, smirking. “When did you get so… impure?”

“You know exactly what I’m talking about, _Choi_ , don’t even try to deny it.”

They giggled, but Jeonghan slowly quietened, tracing the press of Seungcheol’s uniform. Seungcheol felt the mood dampen, and knew what was about to happen. 

“Hey,” Jeonghan said casually, almost as if he hadn’t been planning the following words out all day. Seungcheol saw right through it, but displayed an offhand expression anyway. 

“Yeah?”

Jeonghan was still resolutely inspecting Seungcheol’s uniform for a speck of dust. “I’m sorry. About last Monday. And Joshua. You know, before the showcase. And the whole doing-my-hair thing. And the walking-out-of-the-car thing. It was all…” Jeonghan shook his head. “I was being a moron. I don’t know.”

Seungcheol nodded, feeling like there was more Jeonghan wanted to say.

“And… I know the last week’s been heavy as hell for both of us,” Jeonghan continued. “I don’t know why we’re… like this lately. But I don’t want any trailing threads to bother either of us, today at least. So… I just wanted to get it out of the way before my birthday dinner.”

“Thank you for speaking to me about it,” Seungcheol said quietly. “I know it’s not easy to confront problems. And you know I’m too soft for you to really accost you for answers or explanations… or… you know what, those are the wrong words. I’m not demanding either of those from you about this. I just want us to be on the same page, you know?”

“Yeah,” Jeonghan said quietly, still biting his lip.

“Is anything else bothering you?” Seungcheol asked softly.

Jeonghan nodded once, then hesitated, shaking his head with faked confidence a few seconds later.

“Are you sure?” Seungcheol prodded. 

“Um…” Jeonghan bit his lip a little harder, twisting his hands together. He slowly stood up off of Seungcheol’s lap, hesitated, then sat down on the table’s edge in front of him. “Would you be mad?”

“I can’t promise this or that, but I can promise I’ll hear you out completely about whatever it is before making an emotional reaction. Let me hear it.”

Jeonghan loosened his tie, opening the first button of his collar and pulling it out to reveal his pale collarbones. A singular necklace rested there, a delicate filigree golden chain with a tiny _‘j’_ dangling from it, embedded in tiny diamonds.

“Pretty,” Seungcheol said, although he felt a dull sense of premonition. “Why would this upset me?”

Jeonghan looked more flustered. “I… Joshua…” He took a deep breath. “He gave this to me today. For my birthday. Today morning.”

Seungcheol stared at the pendant, at the little J that could stand for either his boyfriend's name or that of the person trying his utmost to win him over.

“Oh,” was all he said. He wasn’t sure what else to say. 

“Yeah…” Jeonghan bit his lip, fingering the pendant. “If it- upsets you… I can take it off-”

“Hey, no-” Seungcheol took a deep breath, grabbing Jeonghan’s hand as it went for the clasp of the necklace. “Wait. I’m not going to control you like that. Wear it if you like it.” 

“I mean, I do like it- but I just thought- because he was the one who gave it-”

“If you like it then wear it, love. Simple as that.”

Jeonghan deflated slightly. “Would… promise you wouldn’t be upset every time you saw it on me?”  
Seungcheol hesitated and nodded. “Why would I be upset?”

Jeonghan shrugged. “I don’t know. I just wanted to check with you.”

Seungcheol carefully tugged Jeonghan’s hands from the pendant, tucking it beneath his shirt again and lightly patting it before buttoning Jeonghan’s collar over it. “It looks pretty on you. Keep it on.” The words were painful and bitter for him to say, but he tried his best to convey them sweetly. 

“Okay,” Jeonghan said, still slightly unsure, but Seungcheol pressed a kiss to his lips a few seconds later. 

“Jewelry reminds me,” Seungcheol murmured against his lover’s lips. “Your present.”

“Present?” Jeonghan asked, looking childishly excited. It was one of the things that Seungcheol loved most about him, that innocent pure look on Jeonghan’s face. 

Seungcheol chuckled. “Yeah.” He reached into his pocket. “I know you’ve been waiting all day, but here it is. I think it’s incredibly cliche but it’s exactly the kind of thing you’d think the cutest present in the world, so-”

Seungcheol put the tiny box in Jeonghan’s hands. “Open it,” he smiled at the look of anticipation on Jeonghan’s face. 

Jeonghan gasped as the box opened, his face practically lighting up. “Cheol!”

“You like them, right?” Seungcheol smiled wider.

Jeonghan beamed down at the matching simple rings, each with a tiny diamond in the center. “Couple rings?”

“Couple rings,” Seungcheol affirmed, picking one up and sliding it onto Jeonghan’s ring finger teasingly. “You want it on this finger?”

“If you’re prepared for everyone asking us when we got married, then sure,” Jeonghan said, amused, letting out a laugh as Seungcheol shrugged and held out his own ring finger for Jeonghan to put the other ring on.

“You may now kiss the groom,” Seungcheol narrated jokingly, doing just that seconds later.

“This is the most unofficial wedding ever,” Jeonghan laughed against his lips. “Deserted government classroom, senior year.”

“I have to save money for the real one in a few years, don’t I?”

Jeonghan lightly hit his shoulder, and they pulled away, Seungcheol resting his forehead on Jeonghan’s. “Happy birthday, love.”

“Thanks,” Jeonghan said softly, his eyes shining with happiness. And that was enough for Seungcheol. 

“Now let’s go and get some food in you,” Seungcheol added, letting Jeonghan go as they began to gather their things. “When I said inaugurate the new card… I mean _inaugurate_. We’re going to the inner city for dinner. Fanciest restaurant in Seoul.”

“You spoil me way too much,” Jeonghan chided as they headed out of the classroom, his boyfriend intertwining their hands. 

“Who else would I spend money on?” Seungcheol grinned. 

•

“What if I said I didn’t want to?” Joshua grumbled to his mother over the phone as he threw another shirt down on the floor.

“You’ll go because it’s your aunt’s birthday. Look at Yoongi. He’s visiting from college to come celebrate his mother’s birthday. You should model yourself after his behavior.”

“It’s some stupid ripoff Italian place! Korean people have either never tasted Italian food or had it and believed they could make it, which they can’t! I have homework and-”

“Joshua.” his mother sounded as stern as she had ten minutes ago when he’d called her to complain about his aunt chastising him to get ready for her birthday dinner. “You and I both know that you wouldn’t prioritize homework over a meetup with friends, as you proved many times when you still lived at home. So you don’t need to prioritize it over your aunt’s birthday dinner.”

“Mom! I can’t-”

“Jisoo!” Aunt Min was knocking again. “We’re leaving soon.”

“Yes, auntie, I’ll be right on my way,” Joshua called back in the most obedient, sickeningly respectful tone that he could muster. He waited until her footsteps receded before muttering onto the phone. “Please get me out of here, mom, please.”

“Your own choices led you there,” his mother said calmly. “And if you don’t start fixing your attitude you’ll be stuck there for quite longer.” 

Joshua rolled his eyes, pressing the phone to his ear with his shoulder as he struggled to pull his jeans on. “Mom, you packed my old jeans too, I’ve been meaning to tell you-”

“Well, first off, you could’ve told me sooner but you haven’t called all week and I only know you’re alive because your aunt is giving me nightly updates. Secondly, you could’ve packed all the clothes you wanted if you’d helped me instead of sulking around. And thirdly, I’m at least glad to hear that you’ve filled out a little for your pants to feel tight. You’ve always been thin. I’m glad Aunt Min is feeding you well.”

Joshua shook his head, then frowned. “What do you mean, nightly updates?”

“We want to make sure you’re adjusting well.” 

Joshua rolled his eyes again. “Yeah, well, not like you care, shipping me off here because I’m not your problem-”

“Hong Jisoo, don’t you dare say that ever again,” his mother said, her voice steely as she switched to Korean to convey her point, and Joshua stiffened in the way any teenager does when they hear their full name. “You are so loved by us and by God and we sent you to Korea so that you could get your life back. We miss you every day and-” his mother sounded a little teary- “and I’ve cried about you nearly every night that you’ve been gone.”

Joshua felt slightly guilty to hear that his mother had cried about him. He never expected anyone to care or miss him that much.

“So don’t say that you’re not our problem. You’re our beautiful, loved problem, and we want to help you. And we miss you so much, Jisoo.”

“I’m sorry,” Joshua mumbled, finally succeeding with his pants and moving on to the tie, which had been proving tricky for him every school morning. He shuddered at the thought of wearing a whole damn tie to a birthday dinner- he’d definitely never wear something like this in the States. “I didn’t mean for you to feel bad. It’s frustrating. I hate it here.”

“And that’s motivation for you to change,” his mother said firmly, back to English. “If you want me to feel better, go to your aunt’s dinner despite the fact that she probably picked the worst Italian ripoff restaurant in the whole of Seoul.” His mother laughed. “My sister’s always had bad taste.”

Joshua laughed, and wished he hadn’t. There’d been a time, before high school and social status and vape clouds and drunken hazes, a time when he’d laughed with his mother about everything. 

“Go and be on your best behavior, Joshua,” his mother said gently. “And the next time you call- by the way, you better call again within the next three days, mister, you hear me- we can rant together about how horrible her taste is.”

Joshua nodded, then realized she couldn't see him. A sudden lump rose in his throat and he nearly scoffed. Emotional for his mother? What was he, five? “Okay.”

“I love you, honey boo.”

“Mom!” Apparently, his mother _still_ thought he was five. “I said never again!”

“It’s such a cute nickname, Joshie-”

“That’s even worse, mom.”

“But I miss you so much, honey boo. Can’t you let your mother indulge just this once?”

Joshua exhaled. “Okay. Yeah. Whatever. Bye, mom.”

“Have fun with Aunt Min!”

Joshua stared at the phone for a few more seconds after his mother had hung up, and wondered what she’d say about what he was doing to Jeonghan and Seungcheol.

•

“It’s such a nice place,” Jeonghan said, his voice hushed as they entered the fancy establishment. “But won’t it not taste like real Italian?”

“Well, not like we know what real Italian tastes like,” Seungcheol shrugged, walking up to the register. “Choi, reserved, table for two.”

Jeonghan giggled, clinging to his arm, and Seungcheol sent him a smile, noting the coloring on his boyfriend's cheeks.

As the waiter led them to a table, Seungcheol wrapped an arm around Jeonghan, drawing him close to his side. “What were you laughing about?” he murmured, scanning the restaurant. 

“You looked so hot doing that,” Jeonghan whispered back. “ _‘Choi, reserved, for two.’_ ” 

Seungcheol sent him an incredulous look. “The weirdest things turn you on.”

“You being authoritative turns me on. By the way, you made a reservation?”

Seungcheol waved a hand around at the chandeliers and rose bouquets, the fancy china plates and beige linens. “I don’t think this is a walk-in kind of place.”

The waiter stopped at a table in the middle of the restaurant, lighting the candles in the center of the table and presenting Jeonghan with his own bouquet of white roses. Jeonghan peeped over them at Seungcheol, who winked, enjoying seeing Jeonghan being so flustered.

“Made some arrangements,” was all Seungcheol said as they sat down, thanking the waiter as he poured their water and strode off.

“You’re way too sweet,” Jeonghan blushed, putting the flowers aside. “But seriously, the candles are such a fire hazard.”

“You worry way too much,” Seungcheol said, opening the menu. “Get anything you want, it’s on me.”

Jeonghan giggled again. “See what I mean! Confidence is sexy.”

“Stop talking about how I turn you on or you’ll get your last present right here under the table.”

Jeonghan’s eyes were wide as saucers as he stared down at his own menu. Seungcheol chuckled and focused on his own.

It was peaceful for some time, they ordered and chatted about this and that. 

“It’s nice to spend time like this,” Jeonghan confessed, smiling at their matching rings as they held hands over the table. “I’ve been so busy with chamber and tennis, and you with government and lacrosse… as well as making sure all the kids are okay…”

Seungcheol laughed as he sipped his water. “Kids?”

Jeonghan grinned. “You know. Our boys.”

“Oh, right.” Seungcheol smiled. “It’s so nice to see Wonwoo and Soonyoung finally calming down.”

“Three years too late,” Jeonghan sighed.

“At least be glad it’s happening.”

“Everything seems to be going so well,” Jeonghan said happily. “Those two are making up, I heard they’re running for government together- they’ll be our successors! And Chan’s gotten so independent lately, Mingyu seems to be doing better, Junhui somehow got Minghao to open up a little bit, apparently that Hansol boy was talking to Jihoon a lot during the chamber showcase and making him feel comfortable… life’s just perfect.”

“I just hope everything stays that way,” Seungcheol agreed as their pasta arrived, fondly watching Jeonghan light up at the sight of the food. “Let’s eat.”

•

“What kind of place is this?” Joshua whispered to his cousin, who shrugged as they followed the adults into the restaurant.

“Mom wanted Italian so dad found this place,” Yoongi replied. Yoongi was a sophomore in college studying music theory, a lean dark haired boy that had a cold first appearance, but Joshua knew Yoongi was actually quite easy to smile and laugh. Whenever Joshua’s family visited Korea, he’d always preferred spending time with Yoongi, who always changed his atmosphere to fit every mood. It was easy to get along with the older when one got to know him. 

“It looks so fake,” Joshua mumbled, looking around the sophisticated restaurant. “Italian people don’t even decorate this way. This is French.”

Yoongi shrugged. “Mom’s eccentric. It suits her.”

They were led to a table near the center of the restaurant and seated, Joshua’s aunt and uncle asking for champagne, Yoongi ordering wine, and Joshua miserably ordering water, reminiscing the time he’d chugged a whole bottle of beer at a party barely three months ago in the States. He hadn’t had a sip of alcohol in weeks. What a dry, boring life.

Yoongi shot him a look over his wineglass, as if the older boy knew perfectly well that Joshua wasn’t as innocent as he looked. “Want a sip, Jisoo?”

Joshua glared at him, knowing his cousin was teasing. “Of course not, hyung, I can’t drink yet, you know that,” he forced out, voice dripping with honey.

“Jisoo’s such a good nephew,” Aunt Min cooed, pinching Joshua’s cheek. Joshua winced and managed a sweet smile. “We can see him improving every day, he’s becoming so responsible and lovely!”

Joshua rolled his eyes. His mother hadn’t told Aunt Min or any of their extended family about the vaping, just said that Joshua was studying in Korea to help refine his attitude towards education and receive supplemental help in forming a responsible character. Everyone- except seemingly Yoongi- had eaten that lie up.

“I’m going to the bathroom,” Joshua said, standing up. He couldn’t sit here any longer. Not with the tempting little metal thing in his pocket that he hadn’t sucked on in hours. “Just to wash up before we get our food.”

The bathroom was luckily a single-room with a lock on the door, which Joshua clicked shut before pulling the vape from his pocket, leaning against the wall as he turned the device on.

His parents were stupid as hell if they thought he couldn’t get a vape here. It’d been easier than he’d thought. Aunt Min had given him money two days ago to go to the store to buy things he needed or hadn’t been able to bring from home. She didn’t know that his parents had already set up a credit card for him when he was in Korea and told him to use it to buy anything he needed so they could track his purchases.

So Joshua used his credit card for all his innocent necessities, and used Aunt Min’s money for a vaping kit that the man behind the counter had sold to him rather uncomfortably. It wasn’t his business, though. And since Joshua had gone after school, it was incredibly easy to put the box into his backpack and carry home the bags filled with normal items that wouldn’t raise any eyebrows.

Joshua closed his eyes as he let vanilla vapor fill his mouth and eventually his lungs, holding it in for a few seconds before letting his lips part and exhaling the sweetly flavored nicotine into the air of the small bathroom. It was less strong than what he was used to, but he supposed it was better than nothing. 

Did he feel guilty? Of course he did. He’d lied and used money the wrong way and was pretending innocence and to be clean. But was he going to stop? No way. Maybe he’d wean off of it or something, starting tomorrow.

_That’s what you said yesterday, and the day before that._

A few drags later, Joshua checked the time with regret. He’d been here for five minutes already and soon Aunt Min would send Yoongi to check on him. 

With a final sigh that sent more vanilla into the air, Joshua turned off the vape and pocketed it, turning to unlock the door when-

“Hello? Whoever’s in there, could you hurry up? Been standing out here for five minutes.”

Joshua froze at that voice, and then smirked. Oh, coincidences. He was suddenly glad that he’d decided to come along to dinner tonight.

Joshua swung open the door to find Choi Seungcheol standing there, bewildered and slightly irritable.

“Thank god- oh!” Seungcheol startled at the sight of him, looking nervous and angry at the same time. His expression changed, and he coughed. “Oh my god, why does it smell like that?”

Joshua winked at Seungcheol, patting his pocket. “A little secret.”

Seungcheol looked as if he was about to start yelling, but Joshua craned his head above the older boy’s, glancing into the restaurant. “I wonder if Jeonghan’s here? Wasn’t his birthday yesterday?”

He swept past Seungcheol. “I’ll watch over Jeonghan until you’re back, hyung,” Joshua said earnestly, winking at him again before walking over to where he’d spotted Jeonghan bending over his phone at a table not far from his own. He glanced back once to find Seungcheol slamming the bathroom door behind himself.

Joshua lowered himself into the seat opposite Jeonghan and nearly laughed. The other boy was so immersed in his phone that he hadn’t even noticed. Or perhaps Jeonghan saw him out of his peripheral and thought he was Seungcheol. Joshua squinted to see a golden chain against Jeonghan’s neck. 

Cute. He was wearing what Joshua’d bought him.

“It looks nice on you,” Joshua said, and Jeonghan flinched, nearly dropping his phone as his head shot up.

“Oh! Hi?” Jeonghan looked so confused that Joshua wanted to laugh again. 

“I’m here with my aunt,” Joshua explained, gesturing off at his own table, where nobody had even looked over and noticed him sitting here with a classmate. “It’s her birthday.”

“Tell her I said happy birthday,” Jeonghan beamed. “You smell really good! Are you wearing a new cologne for her birthday? I love vanilla!”

Joshua rolled his eyes. “Tell me about it. It’s the only flavor the shop had.”

“Flavor?” Jeonghan cocked his head. “What do you mean?”

“Ooh,” Joshua said slowly, realization dawning. “I mean… scent. It’s the only scent the… um… perfume shop had.”

Jeonghan laughed again, blissfully innocent. “What did you say when you sat down? I was so shocked to hear your voice I didn’t listen to you.”

“The necklace,” Joshua said, nodding towards it. “The one I gave you this morning. It looks really nice on you.”

“Thanks!” Jeonghan fingered it rather shyly, his cheeks blooming with color. “Seungcheol liked it too.”

“Happy to hear it,” Joshua said, leaning back in his chair and folding his arms. “Did he buy you that ring?”

Jeonghan blushed, looking at his hand as if he’d forgotten it was there. “Yeah! Matching couple rings, he said.” He glanced over at the bathroom, apparently checking if the door was still closed. “Listen, Joshua, maybe you should go.”

“What?”

Jeonghan squirmed in his seat. “We’re friends, right? I don’t want to say this and make you think it’s a personal thing…”

“No, no,” Joshua waved him off. “What is it?”

“I… um..” Jeonghan glanced to the bathroom again. “Seungcheol… you make Seungcheol feel a little uncomfortable… and it’s not- it’s not you! It’s just… Cheol’s always a little possessive and you’re naturally really sweet and touchy but I think it’s rubbing him the wrong way…”

Joshua tried hard not to smirk, adopting a hurt expression instead. “Oh… I didn’t know I was… in the way or something…”

“No, no, you’re not in the way! I just-” Jeonghan sighed, grabbing Joshua’s hands. “Hey. Listen. I think you’re a great friend and I think we should still be friends but Seungcheol’s just been in a mood lately and I think we should just be careful-”

“What’s going on?” came a voice over the table, and they glanced up to find Seungcheol, who’d walked over and was staring at their joined hands.

“We’re talking about how we gotta be careful around you,” Joshua said straight facedly, while Jeonghan blanched. He laughed, standing up. “I’m kidding. Hey, if I’ve been causing problems between you guys, I’m sorry. I had no idea.”

Seungcheol glared back at him. “Right.”

“Yeah.” Joshua clapped Seungcheol’s shoulder. “Nice talking to you, buddy.”

“Hyung.”

“Yeah, hyung, sorry. I’m still getting accustomed here.” Joshua flashed a beaming smile towards Jeonghan. “I’m glad we talked! And I understand completely. It’ll be our secret.”

Jeonghan smiled weakly. “Yeah.”

“See you guys around,” Joshua said, finger-gunning Seungcheol as he walked off back to his table, vaguely hearing the trails of a stirring argument behind him. 

•

“Cheol,” Jeonghan tried again as they got into the car. Seungcheol had paid the bill after they’d finished, and the rest of dinner had passed in silence.

“I don’t want to hear it, and I really don’t want to argue,” Seungcheol mumbled, pulling on his seat belt. “Let’s just go home.” He pushed the key into ignition, but let his hand fall from the gearshift, leaving the car parked. 

“I didn’t know he would be there, Cheol, I’m serious! We were really just talking-”

“I am so sick of seeing him everywhere,” Seungcheol said softly, as if he was tired of saying it. He let his head fall against the headrest with a sigh. “I’m done with him.”

Jeonghan was silent. 

“Just when we hashed everything out… just when I thought we could have a happy dinner, just the two of us…” Seungcheol closed his eyes, shaking his head. 

“Do you want me to tell him not to be friends with us anymore?” Jeonghan asked tentatively.

“No, no, it’s just going to make me feel guilty later…” Seungcheol rubbed his temples. “I don’t know. I hate it when people are like this. Why is he just trying to cause problems for us?”

“He’s not trying to cause anything-”

“Just shut up,” Seungcheol said irritably. “You’re so naive, you don’t get anything, do you? He was vaping in the bathroom, too.”

Jeonghan glared at him. “Don’t lie to me for your agenda. He would never. He’s here to stop vaping, for gods sake, why would he-”

“I’m not fucking lying, I saw him-”

“Stop!” Jeonghan pushed his hands in his hair, ruffling it in his frustration. “Just- let’s stop. Let’s leave it. Pretend it didn’t happen and move on.”

“How the fuck am I supposed to leave it when I can literally see what he’s doing and you’re still blind to it?”

“I told you that you’re just reading into it!”

“You-” Seungcheol cut himself off, pressing his lips together to stop himself from saying anything he might regret. “Let’s go. Your house or mine?”

“What?” Jeonghan snapped.

Seungcheol managed a smile through the frustration and anger. He smiled because at the end of the day he was still endeared to Jeonghan no matter how naive or innocent or stupid or snappy his boyfriend was, and today was the day he was supposed to pamper his boyfriend, who’d always pick him over some stupid druggie from America. 

“Your house or mine?” Seungcheol repeated, intertwining their hands. “For your last present.”

Jeonghan blushed despite the situation. “What?”

Seungcheol grinned. “You know exactly what.”

“I don’t care where we go, but the way you said that makes me- just get there fast,” Jeonghan breathed, and Seungcheol smirked as he set the car into drive, veering into the street. 

Screw Joshua. Seungcheol would rather spend his time fucking other things instead.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> aaaaaaa
> 
> okay i’m back with jeongcheolshua!! next chapter stuff is gonna get heavy. 
> 
> the current date in the story is 10/5! so it’s just after hans birthday


	22. 20. an interesting appeal and a late night talk

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> super sorry for the wait!!

Jihoon was distracted enough.

It was Thursday, and tomorrow the qualified teams for the government elections would be announced. He was pretty sure that everyone in their group had passing GPAs and good teacher recommendations (especially Wonwoo) so he wasn’t worried about that too much.

It was more the fact that starting tomorrow, he was committing himself to spending one year in close quarters with other kids that he barely knew, and they were all expected to work together. Based on how things had been going between the four of them lately, Jihoon had a rough prediction of what would go down: Soonyoung wouldn’t ever focus on his tasks, Junhui would spend most of his time blabbering, Wonwoo would glare at Jihoon, and he’d sit there awkwardly.

Jihoon sighed, shutting his locker with subpar enthusiasm. Well, he was the one that had roped himself into this.

The end of the day announcement dinged on the intercom, Seungcheol of course needing to remind students that tomorrow was the revealing of government teams, and Jihoon felt a nervous premonition curling up in his stomach. Foolishly, he wondered if he could break into the administrative office overnight and change his name on the files to someone else Wonwoo wouldn’t mind on his team.

“Hello!” And just like that, Jihoon’s eardrum was burst open. 

Jihoon whipped his head around to find the person that’d practically yelled into his face with excitement, and found Soonyoung’s round face right next to his.

“Way too close,” Jihoon muttered, a pointed finger connecting gently with Soonyoung’s forehead and pushing the latter back. “What do you want?”

“We live in the same neighborhood, right? Let’s walk together!” Soonyoung was grinning as always, and Jihoon wondered what it was with these people and always smiling. What did he even have to be so happy about, anyway? 

“I’m good, thanks,” Jihoon said coldly. “Plus, Junhui’s bullied me into letting him drive him home most days.”

“Cool. I’ll join in,” Soonyoung said, as if the entire world was bent to his will and Junhui wouldn’t have a problem with Soonyoung catching a ride. Sadly, Jihoon knew that was exactly true and Junhui would probably be overjoyed to lend Soonyoung a seat in his car.

“Fine,” Jihoon sighed, shouldering his bag as they started walking down the hall. He glanced a few times at Soonyoung. He’d noticed it when they’d all clustered after the chamber showcase too- Soonyoung actually wasn’t that much taller than him. As someone who’d been teased all his life for resembling a five year old, Jihoon found some comfort in that. 

Thank god Soonyoung wasn’t perfect at everything. Jihoon reprocessed this statement and snorted. Soonyoung was bad at more things than the few talents he could hold over others. An example would be the emergency tutoring session the latter had with Wonwoo today at lunch because of a lower score than expected on the Calculus quiz.

“So why aren’t you walking with Wonwoo?” Jihoon asked, the fox-faced cold youth having taken up a corner of his mind.

“Because he’s walking Mingyu home,” Soonyoung shrugged. “He said he has to tell him something important.”

Jihoon nodded. “What happened between you and Wonwoo, exactly?” He figured Soonyoung, the master of asking blunt questions without reading the room, wouldn’t mind him prying.

To his surprise, however, Soonyoung’s face went dark, as if a light had been switched off. “I don’t like to talk about it.”

Jihoon nodded, retreating slightly. “I just have one question… really just for my curiosity, so you don’t have to answer, but- were you two-”

“What?” Soonyoung spluttered as he cut Jihoon off, looking like he’d surfaced from a pool after five minutes holding his breath underwater. “Me? And Won? Oh my god, no way, no no no- we aren’t- I’m not- I think he’s not- well actually- oh no, no no. We are not together. And weren’t together previously either.”

“Then why are you blushing?”

“Because it’s a weird thing to be asked about!” Soonyoung gesticulated wildly.

“Hm,” Jihoon said, having gotten the answer he’d needed, and they continued walking in peace.

At least, for a few steps, until a paper was shoved into Jihoon’s hands. 

“Join editorial team!” the boy that’d handed him the paper beamed at him before stuffing an identical bright red flyer into Soonyoung’s hands.

“Um-”

“Editorial team is a journalism and writing organization that is application-based! We are looking for talented and dedicated writers to help us provide the student body with up to date news and information of the goings-on at Pledis High,” the boy reeled off in a clearly recited speech. “When you complete the application, you’ll be screened for your knowledge on reading comprehension, grammar, structure, political and psychological sciences, as well as your ability to turn facts into stories! Of course, we’ll only accept the best to inform our students. If that sounds like a piece of cake, then editorial is for you!”

“Take a breath, bro,” Soonyoung said dubiously, flicking the flyer. “We’re not book people.” He caught Jihoon’s stare. “Alright, well he is.”

“I’m expected to give out all of my flyers by the end of the day and I forgot to pass them out this morning,” the boy explained, looking sheepish as he extended a hand for them to shake. “Sorry. I’m Jeongin, Yang Jeongin. Freshman. And if you guys don’t want to apply, just ignore it. I just gotta pass out the flyers, you know?”

“You’re a freshman and you’re in this club?” Jihoon asked, skimming over the pretty paper.

“Yes! My friend Minho recommended me. I think it’s great and there’s only been two meetings so far.”

“So what kind of writing…” Jihoon trailed off, shaking his head. “Nevermind.” He smiled once more at Jeongin. “Thanks for the flyer! And good luck with editorial, Jeongin.”

Jeongin dipped his head in a small bow before scampering off, his stack of papers clutched to his chest.

“Like I could write more than three words cohesively,” Soonyoung laughed, folding up the flyer and putting it into his backpack as they kept walking.

Jihoon hummed, gazing at the paper.

“Thinking of applying? You should do it.” Soonyoung waved to someone in the distance. “There’s Junhui.”

“I don’t know,” Jihoon mused, unsure of why he was spilling his thoughts to Soonyoung. “I don’t think I’m much good at writing- at least not the kind they want. I like fantasy writing better…”

“You? Grumpy little guy? Enjoy writing fantasy?” Soonyoung let out a cackle of laughter, and Jihoon was reminded of why this person was one of the most annoying he’d ever met.

“Yes, I do,” Jihoon huffed, shrugging off Soonyoung’s arm when the still giggling boy tried to lay it over his shoulders. “And it’s because of people like you that laugh at me that I don’t share out.”

Soonyoung sombered. “Sorry, hyung. And I think you’d be great, if you really do write a lot. It doesn’t really matter what you write, I don’t think. It’s more about your abilities to make words into stories, like that guy said.”

“I guess,” Jihoon agreed. “But I don’t know. Isn’t it a big commitment?”

“What if you become the most famous reporter at Pledis, though?”

“Oh, yeah…” Jihoon bit his lip. “Reporting. Talking to people. That’ll be part of it, right?”

Soonyoung snickered. “Why do you act like such a social recluse?”

“That’s exactly what I am,” Jihoon deadpanned. “But thanks for the reminder.”

“Aw, you know I didn’t mean it like that, hyung,” Soonyoung cooed, grabbing Jihoon again, and Jihoon wasn’t sure if he wanted to smack Soonyoung for the repeated touching or just give in and let the boy half-drag him around, because Soonyoung’s velocity was so high that it’d probably be easier and faster than Jihoon actually moving his own body autonomously. 

Soonyoung propelled him towards where Junhui stood, leaning against the wall and chuckling as he texted on his phone.

“Who are you talking to?” Soonyoung interrogated, finally letting Jihoon go as they arrived in front of the taller boy.

“Minghao,” Junhui replied. “Tomorrow… Friday plans. After school.”

“Can I come too?” Soonyoung asked, looping an arm through Junhui’s and dragging Jihoon along as they exited school and into the parking lot. 

“Sorry,” Junhui said apologetically. “I don’t think… just two of us?” He flushed and shook his head again. “Don’t want… to offend…”

“No, no, I get it,” Soonyoung said gently. “Don’t worry. Jihoon and I will do something tomorrow, then.” He flashed Jihoon a grin, teeth sparkling. “Right, hyung? Fancy spending your Friday evening with me. I’m dearly coveted, too. High demand for the one and only Kwon Soonyoung. You should be honored.”

“Fuck no.” 

Soonyoung laughed heartily as they neared Junhui’s car. “By the way, Junnie, we need your opinion on something.”

Junhui, who’d probably understood about half the words in that sentence, glanced over cluelessly as he unlocked his car. Jihoon rolled his eyes at the little cluster of girls at a car in the next row, giggling as they stared at Junhui and his handsome face and fancy Mercedes. 

“Opinion?” Junhui inquired. 

Soonyoung snatched the flyer from Jihoon’s hands, showing them to Junhui. “Jihoon should do this, right?”

Junhui squinted at the flyer. “Writing club, yes?” He shrugged. “Okay. Translation… strange. But yes.”

“Editorial team,” Jihoon corrected, as Soonyoung giggled.

“Same, same,” Junhui shrugged, pointing at the backseat. “Jihoon hyung small, no front seat.”

“You let me ride in the passenger seat the other day!” Jihoon said, face flushing. 

Junhui grinned at him. “Soonyoung hyung tall, Jihoon hyung small. Comparison.”

“You’re lucky you can get away with being so rude,” Jihoon grumbled as he climbed into the back seat. “I’ll give you the can-barely-speak pass. I am not short.”

Soonyoung snickered again, sliding into the passenger seat as Junhui climbed in and started the engine. “So, Junnie, answer. Jihoon should join the editorial team, right?”

“Yes!” Junhui smiled. “Lots of books.”

“Just because someone reads a lot doesn’t mean they’re a good writer,” Jihoon countered-

“Said no language arts teacher ever,” Soonyoung completed. “You’re probably way better than you think you are. Just do the application! You might make it.”

“You need recommendation from a language teacher and a friend,” Jihoon said testily. “Not to mention a 4.0 or above in your current language class.”

Soonyoung swiveled his head to look at Jihoon. “And you’re lying if you’re trying to say that you don’t have that GPA, or that your Korean teachers from the last two years wouldn’t all die for you. I think I saw your name as first-place when the results for the Korean exam came out last year. And I know we didn’t know each other back then but I remember it because I was thinking that Wonwoo would beat himself up for being second place to some Lee Jihoon.”

“Maybe that’s why he hates me,” Jihoon pondered. “I’ve actually ranked first in Korean the last two years. And I’m pretty sure I will this year too. Probably messing up Wonwoo’s best-student-ever record. I mean, he beats me in every other class so I don’t know why that’d frustrate him.” Jihoon didn’t mention that it was really weird for Soonyoung to keep considering Wonwoo’s feelings- he’d pieced together enough to know that Soonyoung and Wonwoo had, until recently, been archenemies, and he couldn’t understand why Soonyoung would’ve cared what Wonwoo thought back when those results had been released before the summer, because that was definitely during the ‘archenemies’ period.

“Wonwoo… baby cat!” Junhui chimed in, clearly having no idea what they were talking about but wanting to make a contribution upon hearing Wonwoo’s name.

“Kitten. And focus on the road,” Jihoon said wearily. “Anyway, being Korean Studies first-rank doesn’t mean…” he trailed off when he realized that any sane person would recommend him for editorial team upon hearing he’d placed first in a literal grammar and writing based subject for two years. “I don’t know. I don’t think they’d want me, anyway. I’m too antisocial and awkward, and I don’t have any friends.” Jihoon snapped his fingers. “Aha. There’s the catch. Nobody’s going to write me a friend recommendation.”

Soonyoung dramatically pressed a hand to his forehead, pretending to faint. “I am wounded, Jihoon hyung. Beyond wounded. You’ve stabbed a gleaming dagger of hurt into my heart upon your accusation-”

“Shut up, Wonwoo already said that we’re not friends,” Jihoon replied. “You can’t write the friend recommendation.” 

“Won’s like that, you just have to ignore him when he gets all emo. You’re one of my best friends, duh.”

Jihoon blinked. “We’ve known each other for a week!”

“And I’ve got enough charisma for the two of us. We’re all best friends, right Junhui?”

“Yep!” Junhui replied.

“For the last time,” Jihoon exhaled. “We aren’t friends.”

“You sound like you’re reading out book titles,” Soonyoung said exasperatedly. “I’m supposed to be the dramatic one. And I said we’re friends.”

“You can’t just push friendship onto people, you know.”

Soonyoung winked. “Alright. We’ll be friends, I’ll write your recommendation letter, and then you can crawl back into your hermit shell. How’s that?”

“Better,” Jihoon grumbled.

To be honest, the word friend itself implied a lot of commitment, at least for him. He was sure that Soonyoung was just being nice, because at the end of the day Jihoon was just a boring nerd that liked reading books and avoiding social interaction. Jihoon couldn’t understand why Soonyoung would want to be friends with anyone like that. Plus, being friends with someone meant that they cared about you, and Jihoon was pretty sure that nobody would grow to care for him after knowing him for a mere _week_. Heck, his dad had known him his whole life and still didn’t really seem like he knew any of Jihoon’s interests or hobbies. Not like he had any. Again, boring. Nobody considered reading books and writing stories to be real interests or hobbies. Just nerd things.

They pulled up outside Soonyoung’s house, and he got out of the car, beaming at Jihoon through the open passenger window. “See you tomorrow, best friends!” He shot finger guns at both Jihoon and Junhui. “Ready to become a hot topic tomorrow morning when it’s revealed the three of us are gonna help Won to victory?”

“Yeah,” Jihoon sighed, as Junhui chirped a “Bye, best friend!”

“That’s the spirit! Jihoon hyung, I’m not leaving until you call me your best friend.”

“Heck no. Junhui, run him over.”

Soonyoung pouted, clinging to the car door. “I’ll get back in there and give you a really long hug otherwise.”

Jihoon detested giving people vocal validification, but he absolutely hated physical contact. Priorities. So he gritted his teeth and let out a little “Goodbye, friend.”

Soonyoung whined. “Hyung! I said _best_ friend, not friend!”

“Take it or leave it.”

Soonyoung grinned. “Is that a challenge? I bet I can make you my best friend soon.”

“I wish you guys spoke Mandarin,” Junhui grumbled morosely in perfect Korean, evidently having practiced that statement of lament to use in situations like these.

“We’ll learn some for you,” Soonyoung promised Junhui, finally releasing the door. “Okay, bye, best friends! Jihoon, I’m writing your friend recommendation letter as soon as I finish eating the cup ramen I’ve thought about all day. And you better fill out that application or I’m gonna fill it out for you and get your teacher recommendation and get you a spot in that editorial team.” 

With that, he skipped off to his driveway.

“I’m gonna kill him,” Jihoon muttered, slumping into his chair.

“What?” Junhui asked.

“Let’s go home.” Jihoon said, changing his proclamation. Junhui was fluttery enough. He did not need to learn threats. 

“Okay!”

Jihoon sighed, waving halfheartedly to a wildly-cheerful Soonyoung as they pulled from the curb, dully reminding himself that soon, that overexcited animal-like person was going to be working alongside him in close quarters for the duration of the year for the government campaigns. 

Dear god, what kind of ‘friends’ had he gotten himself entangled with?

•

Wonwoo dragged his feet along the pavement, really really really wishing that tomorrow wasn’t going to come.

Next to him, Mingyu was skipping along the sidewalk, excitedly talking about what he’d planned for first hour tomorrow morning.

“... and then, they’ll say something like ‘running for vice president alongside his best friend, Kim Mingyu!’ and I’ll stand up or something… or should I like, jump on my chair? Maybe I should prepare confetti. Seungkwan and Hansol are in my first hour, maybe they could help me. My teacher usually isn’t in the room when morning announcements are on, anyway, so I wouldn’t get in trouble- oh _no_ , what if they don’t tell everyone that I’m your best friend? Wait- I forgot that Jeonghan does morning announcements as vice president. I’ll make sure he tells everyone. Everyone’s gonna be so jealous. It’s like in the movies, when the best friend duo steals the show.” Mingyu paused, eyebrows furrowing as he realized an apparent flaw. “But Jeonghan told me today that he doesn’t get to see the papers until tomorrow right before the announcements, so would I be spoiling the surprise for him if I asked him to say that, because then he’d know I’m on the council? Oh! Hyung! You know what I realized? That if you win, you do the end of the day announcements as president and I get to talk to everyone in the morning over the intercom because I’ll be vice president!” Mingyu beamed at him. “Everyone! Like the whole school! Can you imagine?”

“Yeah,” Wonwoo said glumly. “It’ll be great.”

“So do you think I should tell Jeonghan or not?” Mingyu prodded. 

Wonwoo pondered what the best way was to break to Mingyu that he really wasn’t on Wonwoo’s council, considering that Mingyu was still deep rooted in the belief that what Wonwoo had told him on Monday had been a prank. “Actually, I’m sure Soonyoung took care of that for you already. He told me that he was talking to Jeonghan and told him some people on my council.” This was true. Wonwoo was glad that Jeonghan hadn’t accosted him and asked him why he hadn’t selected Mingyu. Wonwoo was also thankful that Jeonghan had enough tact to not tell Mingyu that he wasn’t on the team either. Sometimes Jeonghan’s policy of ‘not my business’ really was beneficial. 

Wonwoo was actually the most grateful that Jeonghan hadn’t told Seungcheol, even though he didn’t have concrete evidence of that- but he was pretty sure Jeonghan hadn’t because if Seungcheol found out his baby had been excluded from the group, Wonwoo would’ve been pounded into the ground and grated to fine dust, lifelong friendship or not. Since that hadn’t happened yet, Wonwoo supposed Seungcheol was blissfully unknowing. _Nobody_ messed with Mingyu under Seungcheol’s watch- which was twenty four seven, three sixty five. Another reason Wonwoo was not looking forward to tomorrow. He’d have to deal with Seungcheol and then, if he was still alive, he’d have to talk to Mingyu. Not good.

“I can’t believe you and Soonyoung hyung are finally getting along again!” Mingyu smiled happily. “Just think about it, the three of us doing this together… we’re going to have so much fun! It’ll be just like old times! Hyung, maybe you two could even be friends again? What position did you give him?”

“Give Soonyoung?” Wonwoo wasn’t sure how he could avoid this question. He settled with a “You’ll see tomorrow” and hoped that would suffice.

Mingyu’s face fell. “Tell me!” 

“You’ll find out soon, it’s in one day,” Wonwoo repeated wearily, pleading to the heavens that Mingyu would drop this topic so he could stop feeling so guilty.

“But hyung,” Mingyu whined, now dragging his feet as well as he tugged on Wonwoo’s sleeve. “You’re being so secretive about this whole thing! It’s not fair! I’m pretty sure out of all the people you picked, I’m the most excited. Speaking of that, you didn’t even tell me the other person you picked apart from Soonyoung! I read all about the campaigns the day you tried to prank me saying I wasn’t on the team. And if I’ve done the math correctly, there should be one more person. Oh- that should be the debate person, right? If I’m vice president, that leaves publicist and debate prep. And I’m sure you didn’t make Soonyoung hyung the preparation person, because, well- it’s obvious. Soonyoung hyung doesn’t have that sort of patience.” Mingyu gasped dramatically. “Unless- hyung! You promise you made me vice president, right? Because you know how much I’d hate it if you picked someone else and made me _publicist_. That’s, like, second place.”

“You’ll be surprised tomorrow,” was all Wonwoo said dryly, realizing that if being ‘second place’ in his team was enough for Mingyu to throw a fit, tomorrow was going to be _real_ fun. Honestly, Wonwoo knew he deserved every bit of hatred he was bound to get. He would feel entitled to being vice president if Mingyu ran for president. That was how best friendships were supposed to work. Apparently Wonwoo was just the dumbest, most heartless idiot in history. He couldn’t even believe his own stupidity. He didn’t deserve someone like Mingyu. 

“Oh, who am I kidding,” Mingyu said, happy once again as he looped their arms together. Usually Wonwoo would pull away, but he decided to let Mingyu have things as he wanted today. The poor younger boy didn’t know what was going to hit him tomorrow. “I know that if I ran, I’d pick you for my vice president, so obviously you picked me.” A small bounce, Mingyu’s hair flopping over his forehead. “I’m so excited! Do you want to have a celebration party tomorrow, after the announcement? I’m free and it’ll be Friday and-”

“I think I’ll be tired though,” Wonwoo cut him off. “You know, I’ve got the feeling tomorrow’s going to be really draining for me.”

“Oh,” Mingyu frowned. “You know, hyung, we’re actually so different. I think I’d be bursting with energy all day if it was me.”

“Put yourself in my shoes tomorrow and see.”

“You’re talking like you’re going to get murdered,” Mingyu cheeped, pulling him along. “Why would anyone come at you tomorrow? I don’t even know why you’re stressed. It’s just an announcement.”

Wonwoo vaguely remembered Seungcheol flexing his biceps for the group, and gulped. “No reason.” A furtive glance was cast to Mingyu’s arms, and he gulped again. “I’m just overthinking. Have you been working out lately? Like more than usual?”

“Seungcheol hyung is taking me with him to the gym every other day after school,” Mingyu bragged proudly, and Wonwoo felt sweat break out on his forehead. “It’s way better than the one at Pledis. Did you know, hyung can benchpress nearly one hundred kilos? His goal is 300. 300 whole kilos! By the time he’s of age. So two years. I think he can do it. Hyung’s so strong.”

“Spectacular,” Wonwoo choked out, doing some quick math. “A hundred kilos. Fantastic. And you?”

“Eighty. But hyung says if I keep working hard I could probably do like, 300 kilos one day like he’s going to,” Mingyu said earnestly, and with another glance at Mingyu’s body Wonwoo confirmed that it probably wouldn’t be a struggle for the well-built younger. After all, it was no wonder why people always mistook Mingyu as older than him. 

“Hm,” Wonwoo said, now pale as snow despite the warm October sun. “So I weigh… let’s say… sixty kilos… and Seungcheol hyung can basically lift… one hundred. Fabulous.”

“Still sound like you’re going to get murdered, hyung,” Mingyu said cheerfully. “What a morbid mood we’re in today. Seungcheol hyung’s sweet as a child. He would never hurt anyone. And why would he hurt you anyway?”

“You tell me,” Wonwoo said, focus far away as vividly imagined scenes of Seungcheol slamming him into the dirt began playing out in his mind, getting increasingly more violent each repetition, like a nightmare on loop.

Mingyu shrugged, looping their arms together again. “Whatever you say, I’m excited for tomorrow.”

“What if I really told you that you weren’t vice president?” Wonwoo pressed desperately, praying that Mingyu would just take the bait and beat him up right now instead of the damage that was pre-sewn to occur tomorrow.

But Mingyu merely laughed, the sound light and free. “I’d tell you that you’re the worst actor on this whole planet.”

“Right,” Wonwoo said miserably, and as Mingyu began leading the way home, Wonwoo began to furiously contemplate the benefits of doing a few pushups tonight to prepare for what would go down tomorrow. 

•

Soonyoung was dozing off over his Japanese literature reading when his mother knocked at his bedroom door.

“What?” he groaned, raising his head off his book as she cracked the door open.

“Wonwoo’s downstairs.”

“What?” Soonyoung rasped, blinking rather tiredly. This was what happened when he’d skipped dinner to study for the Japanese exam tomorrow. His mind was inventing all sorts of things.

“Wonwoo’s downstairs,” his mother said slowly. “Are you alright?”

“Yeah, I’m okay,” Soonyoung mumbled, shoving his hair off his forehead as he stumbled from his desk. “Are you sure he’s here? What would he want?” He glanced at his phone as he shuffled after his mother downstairs. “He didn’t text me for anything.”

Wonwoo was wearing a denim jacket and sweatpants, typical attire for the wanting-to-be-presentable-yet-comfortable boy. He’d evidently showered before heading over, for his dark hair had been released from its usual gelled position and now hung over his forehead in soft locks. Wonwoo’s glasses were on as always, the frames gleaming in the light off the living room lamp. 

The tall lean boy glanced up when Soonyoung hit the bottom step, and gave him a strained smile. “Hey.”

“Hey?” Soonyoung answered, confused as to why Wonwoo’d appeared at his house at nine in the evening. 

“Want to hang out?” Wonwoo added, spinning the key to his Maserati around his index finger.

Soonyoung blinked, twice. This was definitely a dream, he was convinced now. Jeon Wonwoo, showing up without notice at his door at night, asking to spend time with him voluntarily. Either Soonyoung was actually still upstairs dreaming or Wonwoo had hit his head somewhere and confused Soonyoung to be Mingyu or something. 

“Hello?” Wonwoo prodded. “Coming?”

“What is going on?” Soonyoung asked dumbly. 

Wonwoo and Soonyoung’s mother exchanged an exasperated look. 

“He didn’t have his dinner, that’s why he’s being so slow,” Mrs. Kwon said, pushing Soonyoung at Wonwoo. “If you’re taking him out, please try and get some food in him.”

“What? But I need to study-” Soonyoung couldn’t believe those words were coming out of his mouth. Maybe this was actually a nightmare or something.

“You didn’t eat?” Wonwoo tsked. “Come on, hyung.”

Soonyoung waved confusedly at his mother, still bewildered as he followed Wonwoo out to the latter’s car, numbly sliding into the passenger seat and still wondering what the hell was going on.

“Pinch me,” Soonyoung requested Wonwoo as the engine started up.

Wonwoo glanced at him. “What?”

“Is this real?”

Wonwoo rolled his eyes. “Don’t be dramatic. I’d hang out with Mingyu, but… I’m here because of him. You’ll understand when I tell you. And my second choices are Seungcheol hyung and Jeonghan hyung, but neither of them answered the phone.”

“You didn’t call me,” Soonyoung said stupidly.

Wonwoo shook his head. “You never check your phone anyway, it’s a waste of time trying to contact you to see if you’re free. I knew it’d be easier to just show up.” An eyebrow quirked up. “Studying, huh? I’m proud of you.”

Soonyoung shook his head slightly to clear it. “Okay, what are we actually doing?” He asked politely as Wonwoo backed out of the driveway and they headed down the street.

“Two reasons for why I came,” Wonwoo said, his slender fingers drumming the wheel. They passed under a streetlight, and the sharp features of Wonwoo’s handsome face were thrown into illumination momentarily. “One: Jeongguk’s got his friends Taehyung and Jimin over again, and they're playing video games at an obnoxiously loud volume in the basement. I can’t think. Two: I’ve got the most horrible ethical predicament right now and I need another voice of reason.”

Soonyoung choked on his laughter. “Please tell me _I’m_ not supposed to be your voice of reason. Me? Me. Okay.”

Wonwoo sighed. “Where do you want to eat?”

“What?” 

“Are you deaf today or what? Eat. Where do you want to eat. Your mom said that you skipped dinner.”

“I don’t care where we go,” Soonyoung said, his stomach rumbling. “Um… what was that place we went to last Saturday and saw all the boys? Before printing out the forms for government. They had the best ramen.”

“Diamond Cafe?” Wonwoo hummed. “Ramen it is.”

“Cool.”

They arrived and parked the car, stepping outside and shivering in the chill brought by the first week of October, quickly crossing the sidewalk and into the cozy establishment.

Soonyoung blushed as Wonwoo led him to a small corner table for two. “Let’s sit on the same side of the table.”

“What? Why?” Wonwoo looked confused.

Soonyoung glanced around at the other groups of people chattering and eating, and lowered his voice. “Because if we sit across from each other, we’ll look like a couple or something.”

Wonwoo furrowed his eyebrows, sitting down in one seat. “Nobody’s going to think that. Stop being dramatic and sit down.”  
Soonyoung complied and fidgeted as they looked over the menu.

Wonwoo broke the silence. “Great. You just had to say that and now it’s all I can think about. Drag your chair around, will you?”

Soonyoung grinned bashfully and moved his chair around until he was next to Wonwoo. “Hyung’s always right.”

Wonwoo rolled his eyes for what was probably the thousandth time tonight, handing their menus to the waiter passing by. “We’ll go with something basic. Two ramen bowls, one spicy.”

“Won, I can’t eat-”

“Spicy one’s for me, don’t worry,” Wonwoo said coolly as the waiter filled their waters and walked off. “I’m not a fool, I have a well-functioning memory.”

Soonyoung chuckled. Wonwoo was probably remembering the same event as him; an unfortunate game of truth or dare many years ago at Mingyu’s thirteenth birthday party that had culminated in Soonyoung being challenged to eat five chili peppers while singing the National Anthem perfectly on pitch. It hadn’t ended well.

Ramen arrived and after Wonwoo tasting both dishes upon Soonyoung’s demand to know that he was safe from the searing spice, they dug in.

Soonyoung was surprised to see Wonwoo eating nearly as much as him, the younger boy usually didn’t have as much of an appetite.

“Did you skip your dinner too?” Soonyoung snarfed, and Wonwoo gave him a look of affronted disgust.

“Don’t talk with food in your mouth, who taught you table manners? And yes, I did skip. I was too nervous to eat,” Wonwoo admitted, elegantly taking another princely bite. Soonyoung shrugged, shoveling more ramen in his mouth before another thought occurred to him. 

Swallowing with great difficulty, Soonyoung spoke again. “What were you so nervous about?”

“My predicament,” Wonwoo said, laying down his chopsticks as if he’d just remembered the actual reason for inviting Soonyoung out. “Right. That.”

Soonyoung gestured Wonwoo to continue with one hand, the other busy swirling up noodles. 

“If you keep vacuuming food down your throat like that I’m leaving. It’s terrifying.”

“Fine,” Soonyoung groaned, dropping his chopsticks with extreme reluctance. “Talk. Is this about the announcements tomorrow?”

Wonwoo nodded miserably. “It is exactly about that.” A gulp. “So… you know how Mingyu isn’t on the committee?”

Soonyoung sighed. “Oh no.”

Wonwoo nodded in confirmation. “On Monday I tried breaking it to him but he thought we were teamed up to prank him.”

“Ah…” Soonyoung nodded slowly. “That’s why he kept giggling and making eyes at me at soccer practice yesterday. Makes sense.”

Wonwoo was silent for a second. “Isn’t that behavior pretty on point for him, though?”

They made eye contact and broke into laughter.

“No, but seriously,” Wonwoo pressed, returning to normalcy admittedly quicker than Soonyoung had. “Like, what are we going to do?”

“Well, it’s too late to do anything now,” Soonyoung shrugged. “He’s going to find out tomorrow and it’s going to be how it is. That’s all there is to it.”

Wonwoo stared at his bowl. “I don’t feel hungry anymore.”

“Can I eat it for you?”

Wonwoo exasperatedly pushed the bowl across as Soonyoung picked up his chopsticks again. “I just feel like a shit friend, you know? Especially because he like, idolizes me. The kid wants to be just like me, he looks up to me for everything and he’s barely, what, nine months younger. It’s crazy. And he’s going to be super upset tomorrow.”

“Well, you definitely are a shit friend right now, for forgetting him. No sugar coating,” Soonyoung said seriously. “But you can improve, you know. You could apologize and maybe… well, I don’t think you can make this right, but I suppose you’ll have to include him in a lot of other stuff to make him feel better.” 

“Thanks for making me feel valid,” Wonwoo said wearily. “Great.”

Soonyoung shrugged. “I don’t see a point in making you feel better for your fuckup. But I can help you fix it. Acknowledgement is half the battle.”

“Don’t wax poetic at me,” Wonwoo grumbled. 

Soonyoung drummed his fingers on the table. “What do you want me to say, then? ‘Oh, Won, it’s all okay, Mingyu won’t even be that upset, and it wasn’t your fault’?”

Wonwoo let his head fall back, looking at Soonyoung through the corner of his eyes. “Kind of.”

Soonyoung rolled his eyes. “Well, guess what, life is a slap in the face. And it’s going to a slap in the face for him tomorrow, so I think you can deal with this for today.”

“Why didn’t you stop me when I was writing down the names, then?” Wonwoo challenged, aware that they were getting into dangerous territory. Soonyoung’s ears were pinking, and soon they’d be red as he got angrier. “You don’t get any guilt from this?”

“Because it’s your committee and your choices. And you never listen to me anyway,” Soonyoung fired back.

“That doesn’t mean you can’t share your opinion! Maybe we wouldn’t be in this mess if you just spoke up, seeing as you know everything about being a good friend!” 

“I think I know a damn more than you do!” Soonyoung said angrily. “Or do you need a reminder of that?”

Wonwoo opened his mouth, as if he wanted to reply, but his shoulders sagged and he deflated, staring at the table instead.

Shit.

Soonyoung had promised himself he would do his best to not bring this up, ever.

“Hey-” Soonyoung said tentatively, but Wonwoo cut him off.

“I don’t want to lose him too,” Wonwoo said quietly, blinking rather rapidly as he swallowed, hard.

Soonyoung was shocked into silence. Wonwoo dabbed at his eyes and Soonyoung averted his own, pretending he hadn’t seen. 

It had been very long since he’d seen Wonwoo break down. 

“I can’t do friendships right, can I?” Wonwoo let out a bitter laugh, and Soonyoung peeked at him again to find his eyes rather shiny but thankfully not as wet as they’d been a second ago. “You’re right. I don’t know why I was trying to kid myself into thinking this was acceptable. I’m a lousy friend to him.”

“No,” Soonyoung said suddenly, and with a sudden impulse he grabbed Wonwoo’s wrist. “I’m sorry. I was being a dick. I guess I was just- you know… seeing you feel regret for treating him like that made me want to egg you on and it’s not right. Mingyu loves you so much. He doesn’t think you’re lousy at all.”

“Wait until tomorrow,” Wonwoo said, letting out a teary laugh. “He’s going to hate me. Rightfully so.”

“Well…” Soonyoung exhaled, lightly squeezing Wonwoo’s wrist. “You’ve still got us.”

“Us?” Wonwoo repeated, his eyebrow raising.

“Junhui and Jihoon and I.”

Wonwoo snorted. “What lovely company.” He sighed. “Thanks, I guess. I’m just… I’m already not good with words and I feel like anything I say tomorrow is going to just make things worse-”

“Do you want me to talk to him?”

Wonwoo raised his eyes to Soonyoung’s. “But you hate confrontation.”

“I’ll do it if you don’t want to,” Soonyoung said, finishing the ramen and pushing their bowls away, hauling Wonwoo to his feet. “I can’t let you suffer, it’s literally pathetic to watch.”

Wonwoo huffed but allowed Soonyoung to drag him to the register, where the older paid against Wonwoo’s protests before bundling him out to the car.

The car was silent as they sat in it, Wonwoo staring blankly out at the street.

“You guys are going to be okay,” Soonyoung said gently. “Maybe not right now, maybe not for a week or two, but Mingyu loves you too much to hate you forever. And I know you’d rather die than admit it out loud but you love him a lot too.”

Wonwoo glared at him, and Soonyoung grinned back. “So… what I’m trying to say is, everything’s gonna be okay. Don’t worry. Yeah, you fucked up, but you’re gonna be able to fix it.”

“Thanks,” Wonwoo said, a small smile quirking on his lips.

“I’m here all week. Metaphorically. Well, physically too I suppose.” Soonyoung shook his head. “Too much poetic. Take me home, please. I still have two chapters of Japanese to get through.”

Wonwoo chuckled, pushing the gear into drive. “Looks like I’ll be spending some time at your house tonight.”

“You’ll stay over for a bit to help me?” Soonyoung said gratefully. “You’re literally a godsend, Won.”

“Yeah, yeah. Comes with the trade.”

And Soonyoung couldn’t believe that they shared a laugh as they drove off.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hi!!  
> i am SO SORRY FOR THE WAIT!! i’ve been really busy doing coursework and studying for exams. squeezed in time where i could and got this ten days later hehe  
> announcements are tomorrow and wonwoo is completely screwed let’s just admit it. poor him  
> pls comment with predictions/what you’re looking forward to!!  
> tell someone you love em today! i love all of u and thank you so much for being patient 🥺  
> -mingyuwu


	23. 21. government campaigns and secret plans

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i promise i’m not a psychopath the neck scene is for my bby roji (@/wonhaonlyfans on twt)
> 
> roji if ur reading this,,, i’m so sorry sjdksjdkskdkd

Mingyu was beaming as he sat quietly in first hour, impatiently waiting for the bell to ring.

The first hour consumer economics classroom was mostly quiet, students busy milling around and whispering for answers from the homework assignment last night. 

Seungkwan and Hansol meandered over from where they sat at the other end of the room (curse alphabetical seating). Mingyu smiled widely at his enthusiastic friend and calmer soccer teammate, an unusual personality pairing but not one that he was complaining about. The duo made nearly as good of best friends as him and Wonwoo.

Him and Wonwoo.

That was just another reminder of the announcement coming soon. 

Another nervous flutter of anticipation set him nearly trembling with excitement, trying his best not to spill any details before the intercom came on.

“Hyung, you’re like, shaking,” Hansol observed worriedly. “Are you okay? Did you drink coffee again?”

“What? No, no. This is important and special.” Mingyu couldn’t hold back anymore, because now he’d literally been _asked_ and if there was one thing that Mingyu knew for sure wasn’t his strong point, it was his stupid habit of never knowing when to stop talking.

“You can’t tell anyone!” Mingyu glanced around, making sure nobody else was listening before beckoning the two closer. “Well, everyone’s going to find out when the announcements come on, but- I’m telling you guys early!”

“What is it?” Seungkwan asked, eyes wide.

“Wonwoo hyung’s running for government! And he made me his vice president and personal advisor- well, I’ll be vice president if he wins!”

“Woah,” Hansol grinned. “That’s so cool. Imagine if you guys make it! Who else is on the committee?”

“I don’t know,” Mingyu frowned. “I think Soonyoung hyung, and someone else. Because I wasn’t there when hyung wrote the forms up, but I know for sure he picked me even though he’s being real secretive about the whole committee members thing. He likes suspense, you know.”

“Wait,” Seungkwan frowned. “I think Soonyoung hyung told me that Wonwoo hyung told you that you weren’t on the committee.”

Mingyu laughed, waving it off. “That was just Wonwoo hyung being a bad actor. Are you kidding? Of course he’d pick me. I’m his best friend. If Soonyoung hyung is on there, who- may I remind you- was one week ago Wonwoo hyung’s mortal enemy, of course I’m on that list.”

Hansol nodded. “Yeah. It makes sense.” 

Their teacher walked into the room against schedule- the consumer economics teacher was notorious for not entering the class until after morning announcements. Mingyu felt his mood dim slightly, and slumped in his chair, saddened by the fact that he couldn’t leap up and start jumping around when the news came out.

Seungkwan and Hansol congratulated him once more in a whisper, then moved off back to their seats as the class assembled, everyone getting out their things for the day. Mingyu didn’t miss the snatches of conversation around him, everyone talking about the anticipated teams and who they thought would be running this year. Seeing as this was a freshman and sophomore class, many students didn’t know of the popular upperclassmen that were most likely to run, but had heard enough about the yearly elections from older friends to know to be excited. 

Mingyu felt so special sitting there, feeling as if he was in on a secret that few knew about.

The bell rang just as the last few students swept into the classroom, hastily finding their seats. Mingyu felt butterflies all over inside him, and beamed towards Seungkwan and Hansol, who both grinned back amusedly. 

The intercom dinged on and Jeonghan’s sweet voice filled the school. “Good morning, students of Pledis High! There are a lot of announcements to get through today, so we’re saving the ones we know everyone is looking forward to for last.”

Mingyu couldn’t possibly wait that long, but he didn’t really have a choice so he began bouncing his leg up and down under the table, earning a few confused looks from neighboring students.

“A reminder for all seniors that today, October 9th, is the last day to register for the CSAT testing proctored by our school without a late fee. This testing will take place later in November, and we will continue to update with information. Please note the late fee adds 30% of the exam’s usual price to the bill you will receive after payment. You may pick up or drop off forms at the administrative office.”

The underclassmen room was silent, sophomores all dully reminded of the test they’d need to take in two years, freshmen busy looking at each other with eye rolls as they mocked the upperclassmen that had to start preparing. 

“Students in athletics will no longer be able to participate past this point of the fall season if they do not have a valid physical affirmation from their primary care physician submitted to the nurse’s office. If this is you, please aim to have those forms in by Monday so you can continue to play for our school and bring victory home.”

_Whatever, whatever, whatever._

Mingyu let his cheeks fall into his hands, staring at the shiny hair of the girl that sat in front of him and falling into a trance as he wondered why there were so many announcements _today_ of all days.

“While on the topic of sports, we’d like to give special acknowledgements to outstanding athletes as we do every Friday to close out the week. If you have any of these students as classmates, make sure to congratulate them for their good work! Starting from the baseball team…”

There were audible groans in the room as everyone fidgeted, wanting to get to the good announcements. From the smile Mingyu could literally hear in Jeonghan’s voice over the intercom, the older boy knew exactly what he was doing.

“...and from the soccer team, Chwe Hansol for excellent sportsmanship and discipline on Wednesday’s practice.” Mingyu grinned at Hansol, who received polite clapping from their classmates as Jeonghan continued.

“Finally, if your teachers won’t object me taking up another five minutes of your morning, I’ll proceed to the most anticipated announcements today!”

Everyone straightened in their chairs.

“In order to practice and preserve democracy and the voice of the people, Pledis High observes an annual election for the students to pick a president and committee to represent the student body. Students from the junior class may run with up to three students of their choice as a personal committee, each person upholding responsibilities within their council to help their candidate to success. We follow several major debates throughout the school year, and voting day is in May. This is an important aspect of school culture at Pledis High, and- speaking to freshmen and transfer students- it’s a great idea to get involved and keep up with the race as it progresses. Your president will be responsible for planning out several school social events as well as improving student life and serving as a communication between you and your school board. Part of your participation in your required social studies classes will be writing reports and opinions of each debate, as well as voting at the end of the year. We ask that you take this election seriously and not just consider it as an assignment or long term project. Remember, you elect the people you want. The power is in your hands.”

“Get to it,” Mingyu groaned quietly. This was from the same vein of motivating dramatics that the previous vice president had given last year. 

“Today we are announcing the teams running for Pledis High’s eighteenth chapter government officials. We have three teams who submitted and passed all grade requirement and other caveats. Remember, one of these will end up presiding over our school next year!” Everyone sat up straight again, and Jeonghan continued after a moment of dramatic pause. “Team ONCE: Minatozaki Sana, junior, president. Hirai Momo, junior, vice president. Myoui Mina, junior, publicist. Kim Dahyun, sophomore, debate preparation advisor. Team motto: ‘ _You don’t have to think TWICE! Vote ONCE for your peace of mind!_ ’ Very catchy, ladies, I love it! Wishing you all the best for a successful campaign!”

A polite smattering of applause for Dahyun, who was in their class, and she grinned at everyone, earning a high five from Ryujin, who sat next to her. 

Mingyu remembered the lollipop Ryujin had given him on Monday and blushed. One thing at a time, Mingyu. One thing at a time.

“Team… Hyunjinists? I think that’s what this says.” The class laughed, clapping appreciatively for the popular junior boy and his friends, even though none of them were in this class. Everyone knew this group would run together. Mingyu could even hear whooping from the classroom next door, the junior statistics class that housed none of those candidates but were nevertheless busy celebrating the notorious quartet. 

Jeonghan himself laughed over the intercom and continued. “Sorry if I butchered it. I’ll make sure to verify that pronunciation by the first debate. Anyway, here are your candidates! Hwang Hyunjin, junior, president. Han Jisung, junior, vice president. Kim Seungmin, junior, debate preparation advisor.” 

Mingyu frowned, counting on his fingers. That math didn’t add up.

“To clarify,” Jeonghan added over the speaker, as if he’d sensed everyone’s confusion, “This team crossed out the publicist field, so they only have two committee members. Oh- there’s a little note in the margins. ‘My face is the publicity’. Well, we love the confidence! Their motto is _‘Hwang for Wang’_ , a clever wordplay indeed! Good luck to you three on the path to the presidency!”

Mingyu straightened in his chair for what was the third time today, knowing that there was only one team left.

“And now, last but certainly not least, we have team 17CARAT! Jeon Wonwoo, junior, president-” Mingyu grinned over at Seungkwan and Hansol as Jeonghan’s voice faltered over the speaker. “One second, please.” The shuffling of papers were heard over the intercom, and then Jeonghan’s voice returned, unsure and bewildered. “Um- sorry about that. Jeon Wonwoo, junior, president… Kwon Soonyoung, junior, vice president…?”

Mingyu felt like he’d been slapped in the face.

He knew Seungkwan and Hansol were looking at him, he knew they probably were confused, but he kept staring straight forward even as Jeonghan, in a confused voice read out Junhui’s name as publicist and Jihoon’s as debate preparation advisor, going on to announce Wonwoo’s team motto as _‘Won for the Win’_ and giving them an equally neutral message of support before, rather hastily, wrapping up the announcements and wishing everyone a good weekend.

Everything was numb to the core. He couldn’t even think.

Was this all part of a larger prank? Was this something Wonwoo had planned with Jeonghan?

 _But Jeonghan wouldn’t do that in a formal announcement,_ the tiny voice of sensibility chimed in Mingyu’s mind. _Jeonghan has a responsibility to inform the whole school. He can’t just mess around. And you know he wouldn't go that far._

Mingyu continued sitting there silently, his head in too much turmoil for him to even think straight. 

His best friend was running for president with a supposed archenemy, a random boy from China he’d known for a week, and a boy that he’d done nothing but complain about for the same duration of a week.

Had Wonwoo just forgotten about him? Or was he just not good enough for this? Did Wonwoo think he’d screw up?

Mingyu felt tears pricking his eyes, and blinked them away, glad that nobody knew, thankful he hadn’t announced stupidly to the whole class before the morning news came on. But at the same time, it pushed him further down the rabbit hole, the fact that nobody else was questioning why Wonwoo hadn’t picked his goddamn best friend for at least one spot on the committee.

Maybe Wonwoo had realized he liked Soonyoung better than Mingyu. Or maybe Soonyoung had pushed Wonwoo into this, maybe it had been their real reason for continuing tutoring? Maybe Wonwoo had wanted to run for president all along, but not with Mingyu, so had said no when Mingyu had asked, only to take up tutoring for Soonyoung in return for Soonyoung being his vice president…

_But Wonwoo hyung has a mind of steel. He doesn’t get swayed by other people trying to manipulate him. You just don’t want to blame him. You’ll push it onto anyone else. But you know that in the end he’d make the decision on his own._

Perhaps Mingyu was as annoying or useless as his grandmother always seemed to make him out to be. He’d thought that he had a valuable place in Wonwoo’s heart, but he supposed not.

_Maybe Wonwoo hyung and Soonyoung hyung did this because they realized that they’re better off with each other and not with me. They probably laughed when they filled out the form. They probably planned all of this to distance me from them so they can be best friends again without me, like how they were before I came along all those years ago. I was just an obstruction all this time, wasn’t I? And now they’re getting me out of the way._

So it hadn’t been a prank. Wonwoo had really meant it. 

“Mr. Kim.”

Mingyu stirred from his thoughts to find his teacher over his desk, holding out her hand to collect his homework. Apparently she’d been standing over his desk for a while, too, because everyone was twisted around in their seat to look at him. 

With a horrible plummet in his stomach, he realized he was crying, actually crying, tears streaming down his face like he was a child.

He wondered if this was all a horrible nightmare. 

Mingyu stood up, pushing past his teacher and running to the door. He heard his teacher calling him, but he didn’t care.

He barricaded himself alone in one of the second floor bathrooms, finding a corner that didn’t look too dirty and sitting down there, sniffling as he wiped at his eyes, more and more tears cascading down his cheeks and dampening his uniform.

He supposed that there wasn’t a single person on earth that he mattered to at this point, because his Wonwoo hyung, his role model, his inspiration… had written him off so easily that Mingyu realized he didn’t mean anything at all to the older boy.

Mingyu realized how rudely he’d barged out of class, and quickly stood, staring at his reflection in the mirror. Gods, he was a mess.

“If anyone’s loitering around in here to skip class, you need to get to-” Seungcheol’s familiar head poked around the door of the bathroom, finding Mingyu standing frozen in the middle of the wide room. “Gyu? Thank god, I didn’t see you in your class when I went inside to collect attendance, I wanted to see you after the announcement-”

“Hyung,” Mingyu whispered, his face crumpling into tears again.

Seungcheol was already in front of him, having hurried towards him as he’d been talking, and now Mingyu was enveloped in his hyung’s arms, held so lovingly that it made Mingyu break down further.

“I was doing my morning rounds and collecting attendance from every class during announcements,” Seungcheol explained, holding Mingyu to him carefully, rubbing a comforting circle into his back. “I was shocked. I even heard Jeonghan fumbling for words over the speaker, I’m sure he wasn’t expecting that either. So I did my rounds as fast as possible so I could get to your class to collect attendance, and I got there and your desk was empty, so I thought ‘thank god he’s not here today’ but I have to check the bathrooms for students, because you know how kids like to skip in here… I’m so glad I found you.” 

Mingyu didn’t hear any of this. Everything had gone numb again.

Seungcheol carefully pulled away, holding him by the shoulders as he scanned him. “Are you okay?”

Mingyu shook his head, sniffling as he stared at the ground. He felt incredibly childish and extremely foolish to be crying like this in front of Seungcheol. 

“Hey, it’s okay,” Seungcheol said, hugging Mingyu tightly again. “Don’t cry, Gyu. That was a real lousy thing that Wonwoo did. That wasn’t right. I’ll talk to him, okay, hyung will take care of everything.”

Mingyu nodded, just as they heard a pair of voices right outside.

“Didn’t see him through the window as I passed his classroom,” Soonyoung’s voice echoed into the bathroom.

“Well, I walked with him to school today,” Wonwoo’s voice replied, and then footsteps getting closer. 

And then Soonyoung and Wonwoo swept into the bathroom, both stopping in shock at the sight of Mingyu teary-eyed in Seungcheol’s arms.

“Gyu,” Wonwoo said haltingly, placatingly. “We came looking for you.”

“Don’t you talk to him,” Seungcheol snapped, wrapping an arm protectively around Mingyu. 

“Gyu, listen,” Soonyoung said softly. “We didn’t-”

“Shut up,” Seungcheol repeated, tugging Mingyu along with him. “Haven’t you done enough damage, Kwon?”

Soonyoung flinched at the sound of his last name, unused to hearing it. 

“Hyung,” Wonwoo started.

“I’ll talk to you later, Jeon,” Seungcheol growled, pushing past both of them. “Ignore, them, Gyu, come on.”

Wonwoo stared pleadingly at Mingyu as he was dragged past, but Mingyu kept his head down, feeling too miserable to even look at his best friend.

Seungcheol supported him down the hallway, stopping when they were a few feet from Mingyu’s classroom. “Do you feel like you want to go back to class?”

Mingyu felt childish again, like he was a kindergartener crying in the hallway being spoken to patiently by a teacher aide. Nevertheless, he shook his head, voice cracking as he whispered, “I want to go home.”

Seungcheol blinked. “Home?”

Mingyu nodded. “I feel sick,” he whispered. It wasn’t a lie. He felt as if he was burning with fever, and he could barely stand upright.

“I don’t doubt that,” Seungcheol hummed, surmising him again. “Are you sure your grandma is going to be okay with you skipping?”

“I don’t care,” Mingyu said, wiping his tears away. “I want to go home.”

It was too much. All of this was too much. Mingyu still hadn’t recovered from his weekend with Namjoon, he’d still been hung up and melancholy all week from his visit to the Anyang house, last night he’d been cleaning and found old photo albums of his parents when they were young and healthy and happy. It was all too much. 

This had been the one thing in his week that he’d been looking forward to, but it seemed life didn’t want to give him that either. Wonwoo was the one part of his day that never failed to make Mingyu feel better about everything else in his life, but now Mingyu wasn’t sure he could even look Wonwoo in the face. It felt like one of his last supports had been ripped away from him. 

Seungcheol nodded, glancing up and down the hallway. “Okay. Let’s go.”

“You’ll let me go?” Mingyu asked tearfully. 

“Yeah. I’ll drive you. Plus,” Seungcheol waved the attendance forms he was holding. “I’ll just mark you sick.”

“Thanks,” Mingyu sniffled, allowing Seungcheol to wrap an arm around him as they walked down a back stairwell. “But hyung, won’t you be in trouble for leaving campus? You’re president and all… you should set a good example.”

“You live five minutes away, I’ll get back in fine, I’ve got the school keys and all. Plus, I can just say one class was still taking their attendance and I got held up, if anyone asks why I took so long.” Seungcheol gently ruffled Mingyu’s hair. “And my friends mean more to me than any stupid title.”

The ride to Mingyu’s house was quiet, Seungcheol leaning over and giving Mingyu a hug before pressing a kiss to the top of his head. “Don’t think about it too much, puppy. I’ll talk to Wonwoo, alright?”

Mingyu shook his head. “He doesn’t want me, hyung, I don’t want you to force him-”

“I won’t try to change his mind. But it’s not fair to you that he did that and I want to talk to him about it.”

“Okay,” Mingyu said quietly.

Seungcheol ruffled his hair again. “Go and get some rest. I’ll make sure that Seokmin gets notes for you, you guys have a lot of classes together, right?”

Mingyu nodded, hugging Seungcheol once more before stepping out of the car and waving as the latter drove away.

He let himself inside, glad that the house was empty. His grandmother must be at tea with her friends, or out shopping at the market. 

Mingyu hadn’t eaten this morning, too excited by the prospect of the news, and now he certainly didn’t feel hungry at all. Choosing to leave his backpack at the kitchen table, he slowly climbed upstairs and let himself into his room, falling on the bed and staring up at the ceiling, letting out a shaky breath as tears filled his eyes again.

•

“Shit,” Wonwoo muttered, pacing in the bathroom. “Shit, shit, shit.”

“Calm down,” Soonyoung implored. “It’s going to be okay.”

“How can you say that?” Wonwoo demanded, fisting his hands in his hair as he glanced over at Soonyoung. “Did you see him? Did you see how much he was crying? The front of his shirt was literally soaked.”

“But Won, Mingyu’s a crier,” Soonyoung said patiently. “He tends to react that way.”

“Don’t talk about him like that,” Wonwoo snapped, turning away again, frustrated beyond reasoning. “Shit, Seungcheol’s going to beat me up.”

“I wasn’t trying to insult him. And nothing gets achieved if you start freaking out here,” Soonyoung said. “We found him like you wanted, let’s go back to class.”

“How am I supposed to go back to class like this?”

“You look fine. Just fix up your hair. We’ll finish school and go over to his house to talk to him.”

“Yeah.” Wonwoo ruffled his hair in the mirror, giving up after a few seconds. “Gods, I fucked up so bad,” he mumbled, staring at his reflection.

Soonyoung was silent for a few seconds, then gently wrapped an arm around Wonwoo’s shoulders, needing to stand slightly on tiptoe to do so. “Let’s go.”

Wonwoo stared at the hand clasping his shoulder and wondered why he was such a horrible person.

Soonyoung tugged at him again. “Let’s go, Won,” he added persistently, softly.

Wonwoo nodded and allowed Soonyoung to pull him from the bathroom.

•

“Great first practice,” Minghao said happily as they headed out into the school parking lot. It was just after five, and Junhui was still buzzing with energy, having attended his first dance rehearsal with the Orchid team.

“They thought you were super cool,” Minghao added, and Junhui was way too busy thinking about the other’s Mandarin intonation to really listen, merely nodding absentmindedly. “I’m glad they like you.”

“I had a great time,” Junhui replied. “I can’t remember the last time I’ve danced like that. And the others were really sweet about me not knowing too much Korean.”

“I told you they’re all nice,” Minghao said, gently nudging Junhui’s side. “And Hyunjin’s like, your number one fanboy. He was wide eyed after your audition on Tuesday for like ten minutes, I forgot to tell you. It was really something.” Minghao’s face fell. “Right. Hyunjin.”

Junhui glanced his way as he unlocked the doors to his Mercedes. Minghao had promised him that they’d hang out someplace near where the other boy lived. “Is something the matter?”

“Hyunjin’s running for student president,” Minghao explained. “I just remembered.”

“And?” Junhui frowned, holding the passenger door open for Minghao.

“Reminded me of Wonwoo hyung’s royal fuckup this morning.”

Junhui slid into the driver’s seat, starting the engine. “The announcements are way too fast and crackly for me to understand much. What were they talking about?”

Minghao stifled a laugh, the tense expression vanishing off his face. “Oh my god, Junhui, you’ve been walking around all day having no idea what people were talking about, weren’t you? Elections are hottest topic of the school around this time of year.”

Junhui scoffed. “Just tell me.”

“Well, today they announced the teams running for election, and basically Wonwoo hyung ditched Mingyu for Soonyoung hyung.”

“Woah, off the whole team? Aren’t they best friends?”

“Yeah. I was talking to Jeonghan and he said that Seungcheol took Mingyu home this morning.”

“Oh, shit. Is he okay?”

“I don’t think he is. Would you be?”

“No,” Junhui conceded as they pulled out of the parking lot. “Where are we going anyway?”

Minghao grinned at him. “Remember when you asked me where I got my detergent from?”

•

“Thank god I’ve got his house key,” Wonwoo said to Soonyoung as they deliberated on Mingyu’s front porch, Wonwoo fumbling with the small golden key in his hands as they entered. “It’s Friday, his grandmother’s probably out at some other auntie’s house all day.”

“Are you sure he’d want us coming in?” Soonyoung asked doubtfully.

Wonwoo shrugged. “Gyu gave me the key saying to use it whenever there was an emergency. I think this warrants an emergency. I have to talk to him. Cheol hyung drove him home early. Mingyu’s grandmother would kill him if he missed a day of attendance. He was miserable enough to skip school and face that instead.” 

“Gyu?” Soonyoung called as they stepped inside. “Gyu, we want to-”

“He’s upstairs,” came a cold voice from the open-archway kitchen, and both boys flinched, whipping their heads around to find Seungcheol and Jeonghan sitting at the counter, both glaring at the pair.

“Mingyu gave his keys to us too, you know,” Jeonghan added, holding up an identical key to the one that that was in Wonwoo’s hands.

“What are you guys doing here?” Soonyoung spluttered.

Seungcheol scowled. It was terrifying. Wonwoo couldn’t help his eyes from zeroing in on the tight black shirt the older boy was wearing today, one that unfortunately highlighted every muscle Seungcheol would no doubt use willingly to acquaint Wonwoo’s face with the pavement outside.

“We came here after school to make sure Gyu was okay,” Seungcheol explained, still staring daggers at Wonwoo. “Did you not see my car literally in the driveway?”

“We were… I was… um…” Wonwoo gulped. “We were busy thinking of what to say…”

“Well, you’re not seeing him right now,” Seungcheol said, all business. “He’s cried himself to sleep upstairs, we’ve just decided to hang around because we knew you two would try to come around.”

“I want to explain,” Wonwoo pressed.

Seungcheol pointed a finger upstairs, putting it to his lips seconds later in a shushing gesture. “If you wake him up it’ll be the final straw for me.” Wonwoo didn’t doubt that. “Let’s take this outside. Han, stay here. You-” Seungcheol beckoned Soonyoung along. “You too. The both of you are in on this together, aren’t you? President and vice president. How cute.”

Soonyoung gulped and shuffled after Wonwoo, who was feeling lightheaded as Seungcheol ushered them outside and onto Mingyu’s porch, shutting the door after they’d exited. 

“Hear us out,” Wonwoo blurted out, when Seungcheol had turned to face them, enormous biceps crossed over the older boy’s chest.

But what Seungcheol did was even worse. He didn’t yell. He didn’t even look angry anymore, just disappointed. 

And then, in a small, sad voice, “I thought you learned from your past mistakes, Wonwoo.”

Wonwoo blinked, and he was sure that Soonyoung was shocked too. “What?”

Seungcheol leaned against the door. “He was a mess today, Won. You know that right?”

Wonwoo nodded slowly. 

“You have to know how much that was a blow to Mingyu. The idea that you didn’t pick him. And to be fair, the fact that you picked Soonyoung instead, who everyone thought you hated. You do realize how that looks, right?”

Shame burned his cheeks, and Wonwoo nodded again.

“After what happened between you and Soonyoung,” Seungcheol continued, now in a cautious tone, “I thought you matured, realized that your words and actions had impact and that not everyone was as unfeeling as you.” 

Wonwoo felt embarrassed to be talking about this when Soonyoung was right here.

“And I really thought that maybe it was okay to trust you with Mingyu, because that incident would open your eyes to how precious and trusting some people are. And you and I both know how emotionally vulnerable Mingyu is. So I feel immense disappointment not only in my lack of proper judgement of your character and growth, but also of how you conducted yourself towards someone who considers you their everything.”

“It was my fault,” Soonyoung said suddenly, and Seungcheol glanced his way. “I was the one who talked Wonwoo into doing government, and I suggested I’d be his vice president. I didn’t think of Mingyu, and I guess Wonwoo just agreed to be polite.”

Wonwoo stepped on Soonyoung’s foot, sharp and quick. _What the hell are you doing?_

Soonyoung didn’t flinch, good actor as he was, and continued his delivery. “It’s my fault that Mingyu’s upset. If I hadn’t said anything to Wonwoo, he wouldn’t have decided to run for school president. It was all my idea, and as a result I screwed things up between them.”

Seungcheol’s eyes were flickering between the two of them, and Wonwoo felt like a specimen trapped in an observation jar. “I see.”

“I did think of Mingyu while writing the form,” Wonwoo added haltingly. “I just… he’s got a lot going on this year, and I didn’t think he’d be interested, and…” he trailed off. It sounded stupid even to him.

Seungcheol regarded them for a few more seconds, his gaze cold and hard. 

Wonwoo squirmed. The punches were coming.

Seungcheol took a deep breath and gestured off at Wonwoo’s car. “Get out.”

They remained frozen in place.

“I said,” Seungcheol repeated irritably, his jaw clenched, “go home. And don’t either of you dare talk to him until he’s ready.”

“Yes,” Wonwoo mumbled, dipping his head slightly in thanks before grabbing Soonyoung by the wrist and dragging him off.

“You said you were going to stand up to Seungcheol hyung when we got inside! Not pretend like we didn’t see his fucking blindingly white car in the driveway!” Soonyoung hissed as they clambered back into the Maserati.

“Did you see how angry he was?” Wonwoo snapped in reply. “Do you want me to get my limbs ripped off?”

Soonyoung glared at him. “Maybe if you had a backbone you could’ve persuaded him to let you talk to Gyu!”

“Maybe if you had any loyalty you would’ve backed me up instead of making me do all the talking!”

“ _Loyalty_?” Soonyoung scoffed. “Aren’t you the one that keeps telling everyone that we aren’t friends?”

“Well, we’re not,” Wonwoo scoffed. “But a little help would be appreciated.”

“Right,” Soonyoung said testily. “Now what?”

Wonwoo sighed, letting his forehead rest against the top of the wheel. “I don’t know…” 

“Let’s leave it for today,” Soonyoung suggested. “It’s obvious we won’t be able to see him or talk to him, so there’s no point in worrying over it. Just go home and get some rest. I’m sure you could talk to him tomorrow.”

“Yeah,” Wonwoo said, feeling relieved that Soonyoung was making decisions right now. Sure, Soonyoung was an academic mess, but Wonwoo trusted him with feelings. That was what Soonyoung had been responsible for back when they’d been friends. Soonyoung and Mingyu both. One thing that Wonwoo would never be able to beat them at. Knowing what to say and when to say it. Knowing how to love and accepting love. 

Wonwoo did not need a reminder of what had happened the one fatefully stupid time that he’d decided to be all emotional and screwed everything up.

“Home,” Wonwoo exhaled, glancing at Mingyu’s house once more before turning on the engine. “Okay.”

•

“What are we doing here?” 

“Shh,” Hansol urged the younger boy, peeking over the snack aisle. “Oh my god, they’re here!”

“Hyung, what-”

Hansol grabbed Chan before the younger boy screwed their cover, and they kneeled on the floor, peering between bags of chips at a familiar pair of worn dance sneakers entering the store, another pair in significantly better condition following.

“Is that Minghao hyung?” Chan questioned, squinting. “And… who’s the other person?”

“Junhui hyung.”

“And why are they at this corner store? I thought Junhui hyung lived in the nice houses behind the school.”

Hansol put his finger to his lips, grasping Chan by the wrist and slipping behind yet another aisle as the feet came their way.

After dodging an older couple arguing over chocolate, Hansol and Chan reconvened at the back of the store, next to the small ramen bar. 

“I don’t know why we’re here,” Chan whined as Hansol leaned against a barstool, craning his head in order to see the mulleted head and slightly taller dark haired individual strolling the aisles. “You said we had to come here to buy something!”

“We are buying _love_ , Chan,” Hansol said solemnly. “And giving it to Hao hyung and Junhui hyung as a gift.”

Chan made a face. “What are you on about, hyung?”

“Yesterday evening, remember when we were coming home on the bus and Hao hyung asked me to hold his phone because he had to check his bag for something? Well, I was holding it when a notification came from Junhui hyung, but it was in Mandarin and I couldn’t read it. So when I gave Hao hyung his phone back, I just curiously asked what Junhui was saying. And Minghao hyung probably thought I’d forget or wouldn’t care, but he told me kinda casually that the two of them were planning to come here after school today, because of something to do with Junhui hyung asking about what detergent he used.”

“Detergent?” Chan questioned, eyebrows drawn in confusion. 

“Yeah, you heard it right. They’re here to buy…” Hansol cringed. “Detergent.”

“And we’re here because…?”

“Because love is in the air!” Hansol braced his arms on the counter behind him, raising himself up slightly to see farther. “Yep. They’re in the toiletries aisle. I can’t believe this is Minghao hyung’s idea of a first date. No wonder he’s single, huh?”

“Date? Aren’t they just hanging out?”

“Oh, Channie,” Hansol said sympathetically, ruffling the younger boy’s hair. “Smart as you are to skip a grade, you have absolutely no street smarts. Of course it’s a date.”

“Hyung, I’m barely a year younger than you-”

“I know what I’m talking about, though.” Hansol lowered his voice. “We should get them together.”

Chan gasped. “What?”

Hansol sighed. “How do you expect anyone to take you seriously when you stare at them like a lost baby animal?” He couldn’t resist from pinching the younger’s cheek, grinning as Chan swatted his hand away. “Anyway- yes. We should! They both speak Mandarin and like to dance and are elevens!”

Chan put a hand up to stop him. “With all due respect, hyung, your reasoning is complete bullshit. Firstly, there’s nearly one billion people in the world that speak Mandarin, and dancers are everywhere. Those aren’t _traits_. Dance is a hobby that could get them closer, sure, but they need to have actual attraction and feelings to go the whole mile. Plus, what in the world does ‘elevens’ mean?”

“Eleven out of ten,” Hansol explained. 

“That still doesn’t warrant us shoving two possibly incompatible people together. Also, I thought you were the one who told me Minghao hyung’s dad doesn’t like Junhui hyung?”

“That’s what makes it better! It’ll be like a drama!”

“We don’t even know if Hao hyung is into guys!”

Hansol gave him an exasperated look.

“Okay, yeah, he’s definitely into guys,” Chan sighed. “That’s probably the weakest argument I could’ve used.”

“And he’s definitely into Junhui hyung,” Hansol insisted. “You should’ve seen them at the chamber showcase! Minghao hyung giggled. Like actually. Giggled. At something Junhui hyung said.”

Chan’s mouth fell open. “You’re joking.”

“Dead serious.”

“I…” Chan chewed it over in his mind. This was a game changer. “But wouldn’t Hao hyung be angry if he found out about this?”

“Obviously. But honestly-” Hansol craned his head, distracted. “Wow, that angle looks like Junhui hyung’s about to kiss him. Okay, I know that’s too much wishful thinking for their first date. Anyway, what was I saying… right. Honestly, Minghao hyung need our help. He can’t flirt for shit. All he does is smile and blush. That’s not proactive. He needs to be a go-getter. We’ll be his go-getters.” Hansol caught sight of Chan’s dubious expression. “I’m not going to shove them together! We can just be secret agent matchmakers. It’ll be the only exciting thing we’ll do this year. And after this year- you know that life gets all monotonous when you start sophomore year. This is our last year to have some real fun without worrying about academic consequences.”

“I guess. We could try. But not in a creepy way! We have to be subtle about this.”

“I’m subtle as fuck.” That being said, Hansol raised himself up again, taking another peek and gasping at what he saw, falling off his barstool with a crash. 

“Absolutely no street smarts,” Chan sighed, leaning down to help up the other. 

•

“It’s a cute place,” Junhui commented, strolling into the store behind Minghao. 

“It’s just a corner store,” Minghao replied, the corners of his lips quirking up nevertheless. “Anyway, let me show you the coveted detergent.”

Junhui followed Minghao leisurely, glancing around. He saw a flash of movement to his right and glanced over mindlessly to see the backs of two students in the Pledis uniform walking off towards the other end of the store. Apparently this place was a popular hangout.

Minghao’s hair looked so pretty from the back, the softly curled ends of his mullet making Junhui want to reach out and stroke through them. 

_That’s extremely weird, Junhui. Don’t do that, please._

Minghao stopped when they were facing a row of detergents. “Anyway, these are the ones I like. There are a lot of different scents, but the lavender one is my personal favorite. You can pick though, I don’t think they mind if you flip open the caps and sniff them.”

“Cool.” Junhui amusedly watched Minghao as the younger boy flicked through different bottles. He wasn’t sure why Minghao was acting so skittish and fluttery today- ever since they’d gotten into the car.

“You dance really well,” Minghao said suddenly, his back still to Junhui.

“Thanks,” Junhui grinned.

“I didn’t want to tell you in front of everyone because the other boys take things a bit too far with teasing and I didn’t want you to feel uncomfortable,” Minghao said carefully, his tone measured as he continued to stare at the bottles. 

Junhui nodded slowly. “I get that.” He wasn’t sure why Minghao was talking so cautiously, almost as if the younger was trying to tell Junhui something. Unfortunately, Junhui himself knew he was horrible at grasping subtle messages, so he was pretty sure he hadn’t gotten the point. 

“I think I’ve seen you on TV,” Minghao added, sounding rather unsure as he continued to stare at the detergents. “I was thinking about it a few days ago, but it might have been someone else. A lot of Chinese kids look similar.”

“Yeah, I did some acting when I was little. I was in a lot of movies here and there, but I think I was too young to really remember. I quit it to keep dancing,” Junhui explained, stepping a little closer and reaching past Minghao to examine a bottle, inhaling deeply as the younger boy’s familiar scent drifted close to him.

Minghao turned, startling to find Junhui so close to him. “What-”

Junhui had lost his balance slightly when Minghao had turned, and grabbed onto the shelf behind the slim boy, leaving Minghao pinned between him and the shelf.

Their eyes were locked.

Minghao’s deep dark eyes gazed back into his, confusion and shyness reflecting Junhui’s reflection. 

“You…” Junhui was lost for words. “Your neck smells good.”

Oh god, time to die.

Minghao pinked. “I... um…”

Junhui realized how compromising this looked, his face so close to the younger’s that from literally every angle it’d look like something very different was going on.

“Yeah,” Junhui repeated, his stupid mouth having not understood that now was a perfect time to stop talking. “Your neck. It’s… you know. Looks good and smells good.”

Minghao’s blush deepened. “Thanks… um… sorry, I don’t know what to… nobody’s ever said anything about my neck before.”

“People should,” Junhui blustered. “It’s… I mean, they should compliment you about it more. Your neck. It’s… yeah. Good neck. Really good.”

Minghao stared at him, uncomprehending.

Junhui opened his mouth to apologize for being such an awkward piece of shit, and at that moment a crash reverberated through the store, and they flinched apart, Junhui releasing the shelf and moved back slightly.

“I guess somebody dropped something,” Junhui said as a way to change the conversation, glancing around the empty aisle stupidly. “Somewhere else in the store. Not here,” he added, and then wondered if maybe he could just sew his mouth up so he wouldn’t ever speak again, because clearly he couldn't trust himself with not making a fool out of himself every time he opened his mouth.

“Don’t worry about it,” Minghao said gracefully as he picked up on Junhui’s awkwardness, although he still looked a little disheveled as Junhui straightened and let him regain his personal space. “I tend to freeze up when people get close, that’s all, it gets me awkward. Makes me say stupid things.”

_You make me say stupid things._

_God, please don’t say that, Junhui. He’s going to run away._

Junhui settled for an awkward laugh, grabbing the bottle he’d been aiming for. “Well, on the plus side, I feel motivated to do laundry now. We can match neck-scents.”

Minghao’s laughter echoed through the quiet store, and Junhui found himself chuckling too, both of them still slightly red-faced as they headed to the register. 

One thing was for sure. 

After what had just happened back there, Junhui knew he wouldn’t be seeing Minghao the same way for a long time. And judging from the pinking on the younger’s cheeks, he was sure Minghao was experiencing a similar storm of confusion in his own mind.

Just when he’d thought he was settling down here, God had apparently decided to take Junhui’s life for a spin.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i'm back!!  
> i have the next chapter ready to go so it'll be up in a few hours. 
> 
> there was a lot of stuff that unfolded in this chapter lol pls comment if u cried bc i know i did. or scream at wonwoo bc honestly same
> 
> people don’t talk abt cheolgyu brothers dynamic enough and it bothers me so.
> 
> anyways thanks for reading!!
> 
> tell someone you love em today!! i love all of you  
> -mingyuwu <3


	24. 22. miserable saturdays and awkward first meetings

“He’s lazing around as usual!” 

Mingyu laid in bed, staring at the sunlight streaming in through the break between his curtains, and listened to his grandmother yelling on the phone downstairs.

Yesterday hadn’t been pleasant. He hadn’t remembered falling asleep when he’d come home, but he’d woken up to hearing multiple voices downstairs. Upon realizing what he’d done- skipping school because of friend drama, something his grandmother would definitely kill him for, he’d run downstairs to find Seungcheol and Jeonghan explaining to his angry grandmother why they’d invited themselves into her home and why Seungcheol had aided Mingyu in leaving school early yesterday. Mingyu was surprised to hear that Wonwoo and Soonyoung had tried to visit him- as that detail was revealed as Seungcheol was floundering for excuses on why he was ‘standing guard’ in Mingyu’s kitchen. 

After kicking Jeonghan and Seungcheol out, his grandmother had spent the better part of two hours yelling at Mingyu for why he believed it to be acceptable to ditch his education on the part of something dumb that had taken up less than a minute of his day. He hadn’t had the heart or energy to explain to her how hurt he was, plus he was pretty sure that he couldn’t put that betrayal into words just yet. So he sat there and took it, and then she’d sent him to bed as soon as the sun had gone down on account of not wanting to see his face for the rest of the evening. 

This had led to a few more miserable hours laying curled up in his bed and staring at his locked phone screen as notification after notification piled up. He was glad he didn’t see Wonwoo or Soonyoung’s name amongst the messages. Seungcheol was good at taking care of him.

And now Mingyu had woken up after a restless night of sleep to the sound of his grandmother complaining on the phone. He had no doubt in his mind who she was ranting to or about. 

Mingyu debated sleeping for another hour so he wouldn’t have to go downstairs, and then checked the time and realized it was nearly noon and he’d really get murdered if he did anything else stupid after yesterday.

Thirty very prolonged minutes later, Mingyu slowly hit the last step of the staircase, wondering if he should’ve spent another ten minutes in the shower. He wished he had, for his grandmother seemed to still be on the phone and in full steam.

Mingyu sidled into the kitchen, finding his grandmother standing in the center of it and brandishing her broom around as she held the phone to her ear. She glared at him as he entered and he decided it’d be worth it to earn some brownie points today. Easing the broom from her hands, he set about sweeping over the tiles.

“Yes, he’s here now. Spent half the day sleeping as usual. What did I tell you?” A pause, and she pulled the phone from her ear. “Mingyu. Your brother wants to talk to you.”

“Tell him I don’t want to talk to him.”

“Kim Mingyu, you take this phone this instant. Give me that.” And with that, the broom was snatched from his hands and replaced with the phone, and he was shoved out of the kitchen with nothing but Namjoon’s presence over the phone for company. 

“Hi,” Mingyu said dully, holding the phone as far from his ear as he could while still being able to hear Namjoon.

“Hey, what’s going on? Why’re you skipping school?”

Mingyu sighed. “Not like you would care. And I missed one day.”

“You probably don’t want to hear this but-”

“You’re right. I probably don’t. So leave it unsaid.”

It was Namjoon’s turn to sigh. “Don’t talk to me like that, Gyu. I love you and that’s why I want to help you.”

“Right.” Mingyu had no qualms in talking to Namjoon this way. He would give respect to every other person older than him. But not Namjoon. What had Namjoon ever even done to deserve that respect? Be smart? Be everyone’s favorite? Lie to Mingyu when Mingyu had needed the truth the most?

Namjoon sighed again. Pretentious. “Okay. Gyu, listen. Halmeoni’s getting old and you need to make life easier on her. Skipping school, being reckless, it’ll all just stress her out.”

“I’m not _trying_ to stress her out,” Mingyu said, switching to English as he realized that his grandmother was probably eavesdropping from the kitchen. At least that was one thing Namjoon had taught him well. The art of language evadement.

“Oh? Your English is so fluent. Have you studied?”

“Of course I’ve studied,” Mingyu snapped. “You’re the one who told halmeoni about that stupid English literacy exam, knowing she’d sign me up for it. As if I don’t already have to practice Japanese for school. I have to study like hell in every class just to prove myself to be as good as you, anyway. It doesn’t matter what classes I’m the best in because at the end I’ll never be as smart as you, but I keep trying like a fool.”

“I don’t want to do this again. I can’t help being intelligent.” Namjoon must’ve realized how bad that sounded. “I don’t mean it like that. I just… all I’m trying to say is that I don’t need you to be as good as me. I’ve never asked that of you. I just want you to be as good as you can be. You’ll thank me for taking that exam, you’ll see.”

“It’s not about what you’ve asked of me,” Mingyu said frustratedly. “It’s about the standard you’ve set that I’m expected to compete with. And I don’t make it my goal to argue with you, but you always bring studying into every conversation so I’m forced to talk about how much I suck. Okay? Happy?”

“I-” Namjoon halted himself, apparently deciding to change tracks. “Okay. Is anything bothering you at school? Halmeoni said that some of your friends were over when she came home yesterday.”

“Nothing.”

“Are you sure? Is it a girl?”

Mingyu felt a flash of irritation, switching back to English. If his conservative grandmother heard what he was about to say, he was going to get kicked out onto the street. “Who said it had to be a girl?”

Namjoon laughed, actually laughed. “Like you aren’t straight?”

“I haven’t figured my life out, sexuality included, and you’re already putting me into a box. This is why I can’t have a single damn conversation with you.”

“I dare you to say that in Korean.”

“You know exactly why I’m talking in English right now. Anyway, I have other problems in my life than crushes. I know that must sound foreign to you, but I actually have more going on than worrying about people I like.”

“Just promise me you won’t skip again. You need perfect attendance. Maybe next year you can get it. It’s okay.”

Mingyu closed his eyes tightly. “Mhm.”

“And be more considerate to us. I know you’re in that confusing stage of your life, but we’re family and we’re here for you,” Namjoon said calmly, once again in that unknowingly patronizing way of talking that made Mingyu want to punch a wall. The way of talking that someone would use with a small child. It wasn’t cute and it wasn’t reassuring. “If something’s bothering you, you can always call me. You know that right?”

Mingyu had tried not to be as vindictive towards Namjoon as he wanted to be, but he couldn’t hold back anymore. “There’s only one person I want to call when something’s bothering me, and you and I know I can’t call them anymore. So thanks a lot for the advice. I feel great. Spectacular. That’s what you want to hear, right? The problem child is settled now and won’t make any more messes for a while. Perfect Namjoon can go on with his perfect life at his perfect school with his perfect grades and scholarships and whatnot. He can come home the next time it’s obligatory to make a good impression on his doting relatives and check up on his problem child little brother again before being free from his stupid family for the next few months.”

Mingyu caught sight of his grandmother glaring suspiciously at him from around the kitchen archway. He had a feeling that despite him talking in English, she had understood the general tone of his voice.

“And don’t even tell me to be considerate or respectful,” Mingyu continued, Namjoon silent at the other end of the phone. “I’ll be just as considerate and respectful towards you as you were to me when you made a lot of stupid decisions. I don’t think I need to remind you, right hyung?” he layered the last two words with a thick coat of honey, blinking innocently at his grandmother. 

Namjoon was silent for a few more seconds, and then quietly said, “Alright.”

“Good. And don’t ask halmeoni to talk to me. I don’t want to talk to you. For sure I’ll call you the next time I make a mistake and need my smart big brother to fix things for me. Bye.”

Mingyu didn’t wait for Namjoon to reply before hanging up, walking to his grandmother and pressing the phone into her hand with a saccharine sweet smile. “Thanks for letting me talk to him. I understand my mistakes now. I’ll do better next time.”

The words were easy, recited, memorized. They took absolutely no effort, testament to how many times he’d made himself numb and just repeated them to earn some look of sympathetic gratitude from his grandmother. 

“You’re still grounded,” his grandmother snapped. “Go and study for your PCSAT.”

“I have a year until the PCSAT, and two until the real thing.”

“And it’s a year to get a perfect score. Go.” 

Mingyu glanced longingly outside, the mid-October fall morning crisp and bright. It would be one of the last nice days of the year.

“Go,” his grandmother repeated. “Take some breakfast and go study.”

He sighed as he busied himself at the stove. Perhaps he could just open his window upstairs. There’d be no going out today.

•

“Wonwoo!”

Wonwoo startled awake, unsticking his cheek from his textbook with a moan of pain as he straightened his neck. He must’ve fallen asleep studying last night. What a miserable way to spend his Friday evening, doing homework. Jeongguk would laugh his ass off.

“Wonwoo!” came his mom’s repeated call from downstairs. “Your friends are here!”

“What?” Wonwoo mumbled, then with panic, checked the time. “Oh, fuck.”

Last night, in an effort to stop feeling so guilty and do something proactively instead, he’d created a group chat with Soonyoung, Jihoon, and Junhui, telling them all to meet at his house this morning at 10 to set up outlines and plans for their campaign. 

At 10.

Wonwoo glanced at the clock and grumbled at his luck.

“Hyung-” his bedroom door swung open and Jeongguk stumbled inside, half asleep. “Is mom yelling at you or me? Because I woke up from her shouting.”

“I have _never_ seen you awake so early,” Wonwoo marveled.

“And I’ve never seen you still in your pajamas at ten in the morning,” Jeongguk pointed out, rubbing at his eyes. “Considering I would never invite any of my friends over so early, I think the ones downstairs are yours.”

Wonwoo groaned with realization as he peeked out of his window to find Soonyoung’s bike in his yard, Junhui’s Mercedes parked in his driveway. “Great.”

“Yeah. Keep it down. I still have two hours of sleep left,” Jeongguk said, half asleep, and ambled out of the room again, heading back next door and shutting his door again. 

“Won!” His mother would burst his eardrums if she kept yelling like that. 

“I’m coming!” Wonwoo yelled, momentarily forgetting that he was still in the stupid pikachu adult onesie pajamas that Jeongguk had bought him as a joke last Christmas but Wonwoo wore because he loved his brother and secretly thought they were the most comfortable thing he’d ever put on. Not to mention that the peals of joyous laughter that escaped Jeongguk’s lips every time he tugged on the yellow floppy tail on the back of the onesie- it brought warmth to Wonwoo’s heart (although he’d never admit it because Jeongguk had quite enough ego). 

Wonwoo skidded to a stop at the bottom of the staircase, finding the strangest conglomeration on his threshold, being welcomed in happily by his mother.

Jihoon was awkwardly standing with Junhui, who was already beaming at Mrs. Jeon as he handed her a tupperware box that looked to be full of food.

“My mom made!” Junhui explained. “Chinese dishes. To share with friends!”

Mrs. Jeon beamed back. “That’s so sweet of her! Aren’t you the cutest thing!”

Soonyoung was pushing in behind Jihoon, and stopped dead when he caught sight of Wonwoo, who’d just realized what he was wearing.

A stupid grin made its way onto Soonyoung’s lips, and before Wonwoo knew it the older boy had already snapped a picture. “Nice pajamas, Won.”

“Delete that right now!” Wonwoo hissed.

“This picture is golden. I’m keeping it forever. Might print it on gloss paper.”

Jihoon looked scandalized as he stared at Wonwoo, which was pretty much the same expression on Mrs. Jeon’s face as she turned around to look at her oldest. Junhui waved happily at Wonwoo, pointing at the pajamas and giving him a thumbs up. “Pretty!”

“Thanks,” Wonwoo choked out. “Um… I’m really sorry. I fell asleep studying last night and forgot to set my alarm, I usually don’t sleep this late into the morning.” 

“Won, honey, go and get ready,” his mother said calmly. “I’ll set your friends up in the basement.”

“Right,” Wonwoo said, blushing as he crossed his arms over himself. “Thanks, mom. I’ll be right downstairs.”

With that being said, Wonwoo rushed back upstairs and smashed into Jeongguk at the top. “The hell-”

Jeongguk grabbed him before Wonwoo went crashing back downstairs, and set him onto the landing. Wonwoo wondered why everyone on this planet was stronger than him, and in reflex thought of Seungcheol and Mingyu. His stomach squirmed in guilt. 

“There’s no way I can sleep now,” Jeongguk yawned. “I was about to, then I heard Soonyoung hyung downstairs.” A grin formed on Jeongguk’s lips. “Can I have a copy of that picture?”

“Oh, shut up. You see me in this all the time, why would you need a picture?” Wonwoo scoffed, pushing Jeongguk aside and heading into the bathroom. Younger brothers as they are, Jeongguk trailed right after him, ignoring Wonwoo’s protests and letting himself in. 

“Anyway, why’s Soonyoung hyung here with all those other random dudes? I was spying from the banister.”

“School project,” Wonwoo decided was the easiest explanation, glancing over at Jeongguk and screwing up his eyes. “Do you have to pee _right now_?”

“You helped mom change my diapers!”

“That was when you were an infant! You’re fifteen years old now!”

“You’re literally my brother, calm down.” Jeongguk pulled up his pants, sparing Wonwoo’s eyes. “So you and Soonyoung hyung are friends now?”

“No.” Wonwoo stepped aside to let Jeongguk wash his hands. 

“Then why are you two doing a project together? And who are the others?”

“Jihoon and Junhui. And I’m doing a project with him because…” Wonwoo shrugged. “Nobody else to do it with.”

“What about Mingyu hyung?”

Wonwoo sighed. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

“Are you guys in a fight?”

Wonwoo moved back to the sink, stuffing his toothbrush into his mouth to avoid answering. 

“I read your messages with Soonyoung hyung last night,” Jeongguk added conversationally, drying his hands on Wonwoo’s towel (Wonwoo had given up on reminding Jeongguk to use his own years ago). 

“You what?” Wonwoo shouted through a mouthful of toothpaste foam.

“You left your phone on the kitchen counter, I was just putting it to charge before heading to bed when I accidentally opened it and saw,” Jeongguk smiled sweetly. “What happened between you guys and Mingyu hyung?”

“You can’t open my phone, you don’t have my password!” Wonwoo said with difficulty.

“Hyung, when you type in your password one number at a time and never change it, it’s not hard to figure out.”

“Why the fuck would you read _my_ messages?” Wonwoo spluttered, bending his head over the sink.

“Woah, hyung, watch your language. Mom would kill you if she heard that.”

“You say way worse when you’re playing those video games. I’m just a nice brother who doesn’t tell on you.”

“You’d be an amazing brother if you told me what’s going on. So what’s the tea?”

Who taught you to say that?” Wonwoo groaned, having finished washing his face and raising his dripping countenance to glare at Jeongguk through the mirror’s reflection. 

“The ‘tea’ thing? Hansol.”

“Of course.” Wonwoo sighed. Jeongguk always tagged along with Wonwoo, and therefore had been casual friends with Chan, Hansol, and Seungkwan, the other freshmen boys, for years. Apparently Jungkook had invited the trio to join forces with himself andTaehyung and Jimin, and now the six of them were one happy group, along with some other boys. 

Happy group. More than Wonwoo could say for his messed up friend circle. 

“Spill the tea,” Jeongguk prompted again, helpfully handing Wonwoo the hand towel instead of the face towel. 

“It’s none of your business,” Wonwoo scowled at him, snatching the towel and putting it back on the hanging rack before taking the correct one. 

“Why don’t you tell me anything?”

“Because you’re in ninth grade.”

“You were in _eighth_ grade when the mysterious whatever-it-was happened with Soonyoung hyung.”

“You and I both know that I’m the mature sibling,” Wonwoo said dismissively, retrieving the hair gel and squeezing some out onto his palm. “Just because I was able to deal with it then doesn’t mean that you can hear about it now.”

“Can I ask Soonyoung hyung?”

“What? No.” Wonwoo frowned, smoothing the gel into his hair. “Don’t bother him about it. This is his first time here in years, you don't need to overwhelm him.”

“Can’t you just tell me why you’re doing something with him now and not with Mingyu hyung?”

“Stop asking me questions, Jeongguk. I’m already pissed at you for going through my texts. I don’t want to talk about it and certainly not with you. You’re my baby brother, okay? You don’t need to worry about it.”

Jeongguk’s face fell but he still followed Wonwoo from the bathroom to the older boy’s bedroom. “But I want to help.”

“This isn’t something that needs help. And what could you do anyway?”

“I could talk to Mingyu hyung. We hang out a lot. He adores me.”

“Again, don’t bother my friends. Plus, it’s not his fault. It’s ours. Soonyoung hyung and me.”

“I always tell you when I screw up stuff with Taehyung and Jimin.”

“That’s because you’re usually asking for advice.” Wonwoo pulled off the onesie, slipping into a fresh pair of jeans and a white shirt that was either his or Jeongguk’s- they’d arrived at a point where the younger boy had reached (likely surpassed) Wonwoo’s size in most clothing articles and therefore their laundry situation was a bit of a mess. Wonwoo didn’t mind. Jeongguk had an okay sense of style and as long as the clothes fit they fulfilled their purpose.

“Shoot your shot. I give pretty decent advice most of the time,” Jeongguk argued.

“Right. If I tell you, will you leave me alone?”

“Yep.”

Wonwoo sighed. Older siblings like him were made to be manipulated, he supposed. “Fine. We’re running for government together and I left Mingyu out of it, and now he’s pissed. Rightfully pissed. So pissed that he might never be my best friend again. And Seungcheol hyung is mad at me because I excluded Mingyu and I’m sure he’s told Jeonghan hyung, which just is the icing on the cake. Speaking of them, they’re having relationship issues because of this guy Joshua from LA. Seungkwan’s depressed because he hasn’t made the musical, and Minghao’s all hung up on Junhui but he’s never going to admit it and he’s going to be single and lonely forever. Plus, my competition for government is Hwang Hyunjin and his little group, admittedly the most popular boys of the junior class. Since I’m tossing all my life woes in, let me remind you that Kwon Soonyoung, devil incarnate, now has a blackmail photo of me looking like a deer in headlights wearing a pikachu onesie.”

Wonwoo finished and realized he’d been gesturing so violently that he’d stirred up the papers on his desk, which now lay in a heap on the floor.

“Let’s add that to the end of the list,” Jeongguk suggested, pointing at the mess before kindly reaching over to clean it up.

“So, what advice do you have for me?” Wonwoo asked testily, modeling flannel outerwears to put over his shirt, twisting in front of in the mirror hanging on the wardrobe door. 

“Honestly, dunno.” Jeongguk seemed to weighing words. “I can give you a hug?”

Wonwoo stared blankly at his brother as Jeongguk gave him a winning smile. 

“Yeah,” Wonwoo exhaled. “A hug would be great.”

“Awesome,” Jeongguk proclaimed, smashing into Wonwoo so hard that he nearly toppled to the floor. It was pretty reminiscent to getting a hug from Mingyu, so Wonwoo had already steeled himself and luckily didn’t lose his balance. “You rarely let other people touch you, so-” Jeongguk squeezed Wonwoo’s lean body tightly, practically crushing him. “Yeah. Hugs are good, brothers are good, friends are good, life’s gonna be okay. That’s my advice.”

“Good advice,” Wonwoo said approvingly, squirming away and assessing his reflection. “This outerwear looks good with this shirt, right?”

Jeongguk straightened, squinting into the mirror. “Yeah. I’ve never seen that flannel, though.”

“Huh.” Wonwoo picked at it. “It’s been in my closet for a month.”

“Isn’t it Mingyu hyung’s?”

“I guess,” Wonwoo said, a painful lump rising in his throat. “Maybe. Yeah.”

Jeongguk lightly ruffled Wonwoo’s hair, and for some reason Wonwoo couldn’t even find a biting retort to the younger. “Things are going to be fine, hyung. And I’m always here.”

“Yeah,” Wonwoo said, knowing it was stupid to get misty-eyed seconds before he had to go downstaris and greet his guests.

“Cool. Now go and hang out with your best friends.”

“They are not my best friends. We’re not friends.”

Jeongguk chuckled, shoving him from his room. “Sure. We’ll see.”

•

“And over there’s where Won keeps his pool table,” Soonyoung completed, having led the other two boys around Wonwoo’s basement, taking the liberty to give a tour of the place despite never having visited Wonwoo’s new house after the latter had moved here. “All this stuff used to be in his old basement, and they didn’t really change the design when they moved here. So that’s how I know my way around,” Soonyoung added, flopping comfortably onto the short gray couch he’d occupied for a number of sleepovers back when Wonwoo lived in his neighborhood. “Wow. Lots of memories with this sofa.”

Jihoon awkwardly sat down next to him, Junhui sitting down happily on the other couch and looking around appreciatively.

“Hey,” came a voice from the stairs, and they glanced around to find Wonwoo slowly coming down, carrying a tray laden with food. “I tried telling my mom that you all ate breakfast, but she wouldn’t hear it… it’s just toast, fruit, coffee- she might bring down tea later.”

Soonyoung leapt up to help Wonwoo, and with slight reluctance the latter allowed him to take the tray and set it on the coffee table. 

“Um, do you guys want a tour?” Wonwoo asked uncertainly, standing above them, and Soonyoung snickered. 

“Sit down, Pikachu, I already gave them one.”

“But you’ve never been here?” Wonwoo asked confusedly.

“You aren’t very creative with your furniture placement and basically mirrored your old basement.” Soonyoung grinned at Wonwoo as the tall boy sat down next to Junhui. “Do you want to see your pajama pic?”

“I’d like to never see it,” Wonwoo said seriously, pouring himself a cup of coffee. 

“I want to see it,” Junhui piped up.

“I’ll take a look,” Jihoon acknowledged with a small smile on his lips.

“I say yes too. Won's outvoted three to one,” Soonyoung announced, pulling it up on his phone. “Here. Have a look.”

Junhui screeched with laughter and even Jihoon cracked a smile at the sight of a wide-eyed, disheveled Wonwoo, looking absolutely ridiculous in the omelette-yellow onesie. 

“I hate you,” Wonwoo proclaimed, pointedly refusing to look at the picture as he bit into his toast violently. 

“Yeah, right,” Soonyoung giggled. “By the way, are you wearing Mingyu’s flannel?”

Stupid, stupid, stupid. He’d completely forgotten what’d happened yesterday.

Wonwoo turned cold as ice. “No.”

“It doesn’t look your size though,” Jihoon scrutinized.

Wonwoo’s mouth was set in a thin line. “Well, it’s not his.”

“Yeah. My mistake,” Soonyoung said hurriedly. “Anyway, what’s the agenda today?” He looked away from Wonwoo, cheeks burning. He’d just had to open his fat mouth. Of course Wonwoo would want to wear something of Mingyu’s today, he’d want that kind of support seeing as the younger wasn’t here. Wonwoo wouldn’t admit it, but he liked those kinds of sentimental notions. But he definitely wouldn’t appreciate Soonyoung bringing it up in front of the others. He probably wouldn’t even like Soonyoung asking him in private. 

“What _is_ the agenda?” Jihoon asked expectantly, already flipping through his notebook for a blank page. Soonyoung nearly laughed again. Of course Lee Jihoon would’ve come prepared. 

“Right,” Wonwoo said, clearly wanting to move on from his moment of exposé. “I thought that we could just kind of outline what our plans are. A brainstorming day.”

“I found videos on the school website from last year’s debates and watched Seungcheol hyung and Jeonghan hyung for their responses and what kind of questions they were asked,” Soonyoung said offhandedly, Jihoon accepting the paper he held out. Soonyoung hoped Wonwoo would take this surprising effort of preparation as an acceptable apology for Soonyoung humiliating him a few seconds previously. “Don’t thank me, it took seconds. I copy pasted auto-generated transcripts and hit the print button.”

“It’s still something,” Wonwoo said, indeed looking a little pleasantly put-off. “Nice.”

Jihoon flipped through the papers. “Hm… a lot of questions about how Seungcheol hyung would improve school relations and social events, as well as student welfare, club opportunities… oh. There are some questions the interviewers posed about the political situations… so I guess we have to educate ourselves on what’s going on right now in the Blue House because I’m sure they’ll ask our opinions on that.”

“Lot of preparation,” Junhui offered, falling back onto the cushions and staring up at the ceiling.

“Right,” Wonwoo agreed. “Oh- we also have to write up some scripts and stuff for Junhui. So he can do his publicist stuff.”

Junhui nodded. “I’ll paint.”

Soonyoung had to once again fight to keep from laughing at the dubious look on Wonwoo’s face. “What do you mean by paint?” he asked in lieu of Wonwoo’s response. 

“Paint,” Junhui gestured. “You know… bang bang. Lots of looking.” He spread his arms out wide, making a square. “Publicism! Big… papers.”

“Posters?” Jihoon interpreted, waving his hands around too. Soonyoung made eye contact with Wonwoo, who currently looked extremely stressed at the sight of the youngest and oldest miming wildly at each other. Soonyoung could nearly see the gears twisting in Wonwoo’s mind screaming at him that this was a horrible idea.

“Yes! Posters,” Junhui snapped his fingers in Jihoon’s direction. “Perfect. I’m good. Painting.”

“Okay, Junhui, you can make posters,” Wonwoo said tiredly, writing it down. “Why don’t you have some fruit? Take a break for a bit.”

Beaming, Junhui accepted the plate of orange slices Jihoon handed him, giggling as he waved one in the air. “Mandarin orange. Me, mandarin. Like the orange.” 

Soonyoung laughed too. It _was_ funny. 

He silenced himself at Wonwoo’s frown.

“Maybe we could have Minghao come to our meetings,” Wonwoo suggested, continuing to write ideas down. “I don’t think we can interpret Junhui forever. And it’ll take time for him to get fluent.”

“Sorry,” Junhui mumbled around his orange.

“No problem. I’ll ask Hao if he’d like to help out. I’m sure he will.”

Jihoon nodded, straightening out his notebook. “I’m going to draft up some notes for you to use in the first debate. It’s on October 19th, that’s in nine days.”

“Right,” Wonwoo said, looking marginally paler at the thought. “Talking to people. Right.”

“Whole school,” Junhui corrected him cheerfully, popping another orange slice in his mouth.

“Well, thanks for giving us a shortened-period day,” Soonyoung joked. “All our classes are like, twenty minutes, so we can have the debate assembly at the end of the day.”

Wonwoo looked even paler at the prospect of spending a good portion of his school day sweating under a spotlight under the eyes of the entire student body.

“Hey, it’s gonna be okay,” Soonyoung said hurriedly. “I’m not trying to freak you out, Won. We’re here to help you. You wanted to do this, and there’s some parts of it that suck but you gotta get used to.”

“Our competition is _Hyunjin_ ,” Wonwoo said, his voice strangled. “Oh shit, Sana too. Why are the most popular girls and guys in our grade running? How did I get myself tangled in this?”

“I ask myself that every day,” Jihoon grumbled, slouching into the cushions as he continued writing, Junhui peeping over his shoulder and sounding out words silently. 

“Ugh,” Wonwoo sighed, covering his face with his hands. “I just feel really overwhelmed right now…”

“We can do this later, if you want,” Jihoon suggested. “Maybe you’re tired from studying?”

“No…” Wonwoo let his hands fall into his lap. “It’s a lot of little things at once… nevermind.” He blinked hard a few times. “I’m fine. Let me see that list. What do we have so far?”

Soonyoung bit his lip, staring at Wonwoo from the other couch as the younger boy read through notes with Jihoon, Wonwoo doing his best to look as if he was holding himself together.

Soonyoung saw right through that facade. He knew why Wonwoo was losing control so quickly. The youth was still shaken up with what had happened yesterday with Mingyu. 

As much as Wonwoo detested to admit it, Soonyoung knew he cared about Mingyu dearly and relied on him in quite a different way than the clingy accident-prone younger boy relied on him. Mingyu usually made blunders in his academic life or needed Wonwoo to fix the things he broke on a daily basis. He practically hung off of Wonwoo’s arm all day like a puppy on the heels of his owner. But for Wonwoo, Mingyu was a comfort, an entity that was understanding of emotions and feelings and all the intangibles that Wonwoo hated getting into. For Wonwoo, Mingyu was always there to clean up his existential crises and soothe him after he’d made a mess out of his emotions, to throw him a lifesaver and fish him out of his feelings. 

But Wonwoo was drowning now because of the guilt and pressure and stress and for once Mingyu wasn’t around to hold him and tell him it’d be okay.

Soonyoung felt a dull ache in his heart at the thought that maybe a few years ago, he’d know what to do. But Wonwoo had changed so much; sure, he’d always been cold. All the time. But in the years that they’d walked separate paths, Wonwoo had gotten even darker and colder and distant, and Soonyoung realized with regret that he didn’t know how to make Wonwoo feel better anymore. He couldn’t do a thing.

“Soonyoung?”

He startled to find everyone looking at him expectantly. “Yeah?”

“We’ve asked you thrice,” Jihoon said impatiently. “Should we make the banners before or after the first debate?”

“Oh…” Soonyoung blinked, returning to reality. Great. He’d been gazing sadly at Wonwoo for however long that’d been, probably why the latter was staring back at him with that stupid face Wonwoo made when he tried to pretend he was fine and didn’t have feelings. 

Enough.

He was here and he was going to be a professional. He could take a leaf out of Wonwoo’s book. Feelings, empathy, sorrow, regret- pushed aside.

Soonyoung took a deep breath and schooled his features into something acceptable as he sat forward, taking a look at the brainstorming page that the other three were bent over. “I think if we make a few promotional banners before, it’s enough to draw attention. It doesn’t need to be flashy, it can just be colorful and have our slogan. And then after the first debate wraps up…”

Wonwoo’s eyes were on him the rest of their meeting, and it did nothing to ease the whirlwind in Soonyoung’s mind. 

•

“Where were you?” was the first thing Jihoon heard when he entered his house, head still spinning slightly from the speed of Junhui’s driving on the way back home. 

Jihoon glanced over to the dining table to find his parents having lunch together. Surprising.

“You rushed out of the house this morning,” his mother continued, looking curious. “Your dad saw you getting into a fancy car? Same one that just dropped you off.”

“Just with some guys. Working on a government project. I’m running as part of a committee with a few classmates,” Jihoon explained. 

“Same boys that you hung out with a few days ago at the mall?” his father asked with a smile, and Jihoon looked at him in surprise. “Of course I remembered.”

“Yeah, same guys,” Jihoon exhaled happily. 

“My meetings today got cancelled, so I decided to stay at home and your mother bribed me into a delicious lunch,” his father said as Jihoon put down his things, walking to the table.

They were being so nice to each other today. Goodness. 

“I’m glad you like it. I made all your favorites because we rarely get to have lunch with you.” Mrs. Lee beamed at her husband, ushering Jihoon into the third seat at the table and serving him a steaming bowl of soft rice to start. His favorite.

“I’m glad you’re spending some more time out of your room and your books,” Jihoon’s father added approvingly. “They seem like good boys to be friends with.”

“Yeah,” Jihoon said softly, a tiny smile on his lips as he picked up his chopsticks. “They are.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> aaaaaaaaaaaa i wrote this a few days ago and didn't have time to beta check it before uploading. so if there's errors i'm super sorry!
> 
> i'm on holiday soon so i'll have more time to deliver more chapters!
> 
> i decided to keep depressing mingyu because (fellow writers pls agree with me) there's just something really artistically appealing about making things miserable for your bias. sound like a psycho for that so sorry,,, i promise i love mingoo a lot hhh
> 
> anyway, i'd just like to thank you guys for reading! please keep interacting in the comments. i'm so busy with school and work but i DEFINITELY read all the comments and i am so grateful for you guys, some commenters in specific make my whole DAY!!
> 
> the next chapter will be up sometime in the next two days!
> 
> tell someone you love them today, i love all of you ehehe  
> -mingyuwu <3


	25. 23. acception letters and arguments

“He’s already left,” was the answer Wonwoo received when he’d arrived outside Mingyu’s house, five minutes late as he always was on Monday mornings because there was simply no point in getting to Mingyu’s in time if the younger boy always overslept on the first day of the week.

“He’s left?” Wonwoo asked incredulously, checking the time. “Early?”

“Yes.”

Wonwoo stared back at Mingyu’s grandmother, wondering if she knew. She looked irritable most of the time, so he couldn’t be sure. 

“I’m glad you’ve managed to instill some good habits in him,” Mrs. Kim continued, and Wonwoo realized she had no idea about the whole mess. “I didn’t expect him to go to school today. He was miserable all weekend and tried faking sick last night, of course he’s a horrible actor, gets it from his father-” Mrs. Kim stopped abruptly at the thought of her deceased son. “Well. He’s had a sudden change of mind and apparently has decided to get to school early to deal with whatever was enough for him to sink into dramatics last night. I’m glad he’s earning a bit of proactive sense instead of just avoiding his problems. I’ve always told him he’s too passive aggressive.”

“Right,” Wonwoo said mildly, busy thinking how motivated Mingyu must be to avoid him that the younger had woken up  _ early _ on a  _ Monday _ . This was certainly a level of commitment.

“I’m glad you’re friends with him, Wonwoo dear. You’ve kept him on track very well.” With that, Mrs. Kim retreated into her house, leaving Wonwoo speechless on the porch.

He found Mingyu just inside the school yard, where the combination of Mingyu’s reluctance to get to school today and Wonwoo’s rushed pace had brought them to a collision course.

And it certainly was a collision course; for Wonwoo had been too busy looking for Mingyu that he’d lightly pushed past the younger boy. Looking back on it, Wonwoo had no idea how he’d missed out on Mingyu’s tall figure amongst the others in the school yard, but he didn’t have enough time to think about it as he turned around to apologize to whoever he’d bumped into and found himself staring at the younger boy. 

“Mingyu,” Wonwoo said tentatively. “Hi.”

Mingyu merely stared back at him, face empty of emotion, and then turned and stormed off.

“Gyu, no- wait-” Wonwoo glanced around fervently, making sure Seungcheol wasn’t nearby, and ran after the latter, catching the sleeve of Mingyu’s uniform. Another surprise. Mingyu never put his blazer on until they walked into the actual building, something that Wonwoo chided him for every morning. Apparently Mingyu had wanted to blend in as much as possible today. 

Mingyu wrenched his sleeve away from Wonwoo and kept walking.

“Mingyu, please, listen to me,” Wonwoo begged weakly, quickening his pace to keep up with the younger boy. “It was an accident, I just… you slipped my mind, I was thinking of a lot of stuff-”

“ _ I _ slipped your mind?” Mingyu demanded, turning around to face Wonwoo, his eyes already rimmed red with tears. “I slipped your mind. That’s a brilliant excuse, hyung, except it doesn’t work because you know that you wouldn’t have slipped mine if I was in your shoes.”

“Mingyu, please,” Wonwoo said softly. “Please.”

“I am so sick and tired of people writing me off,” Mingyu exclaimed, blinking hard to keep from crying. “First it was Namjoon hyung, now you- I’m done with being the person everyone underestimates. I’m  _ done _ with it. Seungcheol hyung was right. There’s no excusing the way you treated me. Nobody would think you considered me your best friend if they saw that. So you can go and be with those guys you picked because clearly you give a damn more about them than you do me.” 

Wonwoo reached out, but Mingyu was already gone. 

•

Jihoon sat down in first hour statistics, dully putting his head down. He hadn’t slept much last night, being too immersed in a book to put it down.

He sure regretted that decision now.

Jihoon felt air brush past his cheek as the home room secretary dropped something onto his desk. Probably a book he’d had on hold from the library had arrived.

He raised his head only to find a white envelope sitting innocently on the desk.

Jihoon’s eyes widened and he stared unsurely at the envelope. He wasn’t in trouble, was he?

He didn’t remember doing anything wrong, he always turned in his homework on time and had good grades, he didn’t loiter around the school campus after hours nor did he bully students…

Jihoon hesitantly flipped the letter onto its back, perusing the curly font on the front. There was no ‘to the guardians of Lee Jihoon’ so he supposed that was good. Whatever minor misdemeanor he’d conducted was apparently not enough to require communication to his parents.

There was, however, an ‘URGENT’ written on the flap, so he sighed and reached for it, ripping off the flap slowly and carefully as he tried to preserve its triangular form. Eventually he gave up and just tore what was left of it off in tiny pieces until there was a sizable clump of paper scraps on his desk and he could see nearly half of a dark red card.

Hm.

That did not look like a detention, suspension, or expulsion notice.

Jihoon slowly pulled the card out, literally slumping in relief when he read the word ‘CONGRATULATIONS’ on the front. Thank god. 

Amused at himself for worrying for nothing, Jihoon swept the shredded flap into the pocket of the envelope, getting up to throw it away as he read through the card intently.

And by the time he returned to his seat, he was beaming.

•

“What are you doing here?” came the question from three voices over a deserted table at the back of the library.

Jihoon frowned at Wonwoo and Soonyoung. “I’m always here. I come here every day whether you two are tutoring or not. What are  _ you _ doing here?”

“I needed Soonyoung’s advice on something and suggested to meet here, we forgot that you’d be here,” Wonwoo shrugged, pulling out a chair. “Convenient that we’ve all got lunch together, actually, I’ve been thinking about it. Helpful, you know? For if we need any extra sessions for government planning.”

“Speaking of all of us, where’s Junhui?” Jihoon asked. 

“Are you missing Junhui?” Wonwoo asked with exaggerated concern. “Is this outward affection?”

Jihoon silenced the other with a glare. “No. He’s always tagging along with Soonyoung these days, so I assumed he was around here today too.”

“Junhui’s hanging out with Minghao at lunch today,” Soonyoung explained. “Apparently he told Hao about the food he brought over to Wonwoo’s house yesterday and it got Hao reminiscing about Chinese food because his mom’s changed her cooking style in the last few years and they don’t make some more rare Chinese dishes that Junhui’s mom is good at. So obviously Junhui jumped on the opportunity and promised Minghao that today he’d bring him some comfort food.”

“Dating,” Jihoon mumbled in his trademark quiet humor, earning a chuckle from Soonyoung.

“You’re funny today, hyung,” Wonwoo said graciously. “What’s got your mood up so much?”

Jihoon sighed. “Don’t make a big deal out of this, but I got accepted into editorial. They sent me the letter this morning. I guess it’s a really fast process.”

“You WHAT?” Soonyoung shrieked, nearly jumping onto the table, Wonwoo grabbing him by the wrist and yanking him back into his chair with a hiss of “ _ this is a library!”.  _ “I told you that you could do it!”

Jihoon shrugged. “I mean-”

“So they  _ did _ like my recommendation letter!”

Jihoon frowned. “What did you even say in it?”

Soonyoung’s face fell. “You didn’t read it?”

“Why would I read it? I just kind of shoved it into the application envelope with all my other stuff. I wasn’t thinking I’d make it, remember?”

“You should’ve skimmed it over! I said so many nice things about you!” Soonyoung kicked his feet childishly. “I’m hurt, hyung. I worked really hard on that. I even put off making my cup ramen to finish it and email it to you that same night. Thursday night! There’s so many other things I could’ve done with my Thursday night than tending to you two.” To Jihoon’s surprise, Soonyoung nodded his head at Wonwoo. “I spent my whole afternoon writing the letter, then when I was studying, Won showed up to my place with his existential crisis and I had to take care of him.” Soonyoung jutted his chin out proudly. “I’m the bestest friend to exist.”

“We are not friends,” Wonwoo muttered. 

“Shut up.”

“At least you made it, Jihoon hyung,” Wonwoo pointed out, trying to smooth things over. “They must’ve liked your good qualities.”

“I don’t have any good qualities,” Jihoon defended. “They probably just want me because I use big words.”

Soonyoung pouted. “That’s insult to my persuasive letter writing skills and all the amazing skills you’ve got. I’m sure your parents would agree.”

“You don’t know anything about my parents,” Jihoon snapped, and Soonyoung looked rather taken back.

“So…” Wonwoo spoke into the tense silence. “Anyways… congratulations, hyung. That’s cool.”

It was satisfying to get validation from a class topper, Jihoon realized with a smile. “Thanks. I’m honestly still surprised about it, but I’ll work hard and do my best.”

“You’re going to be school-famous,” Soonyoung said, self assured, and turned to Wonwoo. “Okay, stick boy. You asked me for my advice, but have yet to deliver your dilemma.”

“ _ ‘Stick boy’ _ . Wow. Really?” Wonwoo raised an eyebrow.

“What? We’re not friends, right? So I’ll call you how I like, Jeon. Talk.” Soonyoung continued staring at Wonwoo, still pouting dramatically.

“Correct, we’re not. Glad you’ve caught on,” Wonwoo said coolly, which was clearly not the answer that Soonyoung was expecting, for the older boy scowled and looked away, pushing his chair back from the table slightly to recline his feet on the end of it. Jihoon nearly snapped at Soonyoung to get his shoes off the table, but he was too busy pretending not to be interested in what Wonwoo had to say. “Anyways, here’s what I’m thinking. I kick someone off my team and replace that person with Mingyu.”

Silence.

“Any volunteers?” Wonwoo offered.

Jihoon chuckled. “I’d vote myself off, but unfortunately I can’t.”

“What? Why not?” Wonwoo frowned. 

“We can’t change our committee until after the second debate.”

“Fuck,” Wonwoo exhaled, leaning back in his chair. “Okay. Great.”

“Looks like we’re all stuck together for a bit longer,” Jihoon said darkly.

Soonyoung snickered. “I love this dynamic. I can’t wait to watch you guys for the next few months.”

•

“Ma?”

Soonyoung dropped his bag just inside his foyer, rotating his aching shoulder a few times as he dabbed sweat off his forehead. Today’s dance rehearsal had been more rigorous than usual, on account of the production that was scheduled for later this month. Hyunjin and he were strained to their wits’ ends with managing the team.

Soonyoung thanked the gods that Minghao had found a co-president, because as efficient as Minghao was at management skills, he’d been able to see the pressure of managing Orchid taking a toll on the younger boy. Junhui seemed to fill all the spaces that Minghao had been stretching himself to take care of, and the pair seemed to complement each other and work well together. 

“Ma!” Soonyoung called one more time, wondering where his mother was. She usually waited for him in the kitchen every day around the time that practice finished, always with a bowl of cold fruit or a plate of dumplings, somehow able to consistently predict what he’d want each day.

Soonyoung frowned, walking to the foot of the stairs just as his mother began descending them, her eyes puffy and red.

“Are you okay?” Soonyoung asked worriedly as his mother brushed past him to the kitchen.

“I’m fine, honey,” his mother said, although her voice shook slightly as she retrieved a pomegranate from the refrigerator. “I’m so sorry, I know you must be hungry after practice, I was just on the phone with your father.”

“Oh.” Soonyoung stood silently in the middle of the kitchen, wondering how to ask what he wanted to.

“Why don’t you go and get cleaned up. I’ll have this ready for you by the time you’re downstairs.”

“Okay,” Soonyoung agreed hesitantly, lingering a second longer before darting upstairs and into the shower as fast as he could.

By the time he’d returned, his mother had finished shelling the pomegranate seeds into a bowl and was sitting rather emptily at the island table.

Soonyoung slowly sat down next to her, pulling the bowl towards himself as he chanced a glance in her direction, finding her still looking upset. 

“Ma?”

She smiled, but it was strained. “Yes, honey?”

“Is… I mean… are you and dad in an argument?”

She sighed, twisting around the wedding ring on her finger as she always did when she was conflicted or in deep thought. “No.”

“Then-”

“I’ve got errands to run tonight and your father won’t be home until late,” his mother cut him off. “Can you manage dinner for yourself?”

“I mean, yeah, but I was just wondering what was happening between you and dad-”

“Soonyoung,” his mother said, steel in her voice this time. 

He fell quiet.

“It’s not your place,” his mother added, quiet but firm. 

“You guys are fighting so much these days,” Soonyoung blurted out, and instantly regretted it upon catching sight of his mother’s hurt expression. “I’m sorry, I just- it sounds dumb but I get scared when I hear you and dad arguing all the time-”

“You’re overthinking. It’s not your place. Your dad and I can fix these things on our own,” his mother snapped, and Soonyoung flinched because his mom, the woman Soonyoung considered his best friend, his partner in crime, first in his heart- his mother who never raised her voice at him, had just lashed out.

“I just don’t want anything to happen to you and dad,” Soonyoung said, as if that would make things better.

His mother pursed her lips. “Excuse me?”

“I’m sorry,” Soonyoung mumbled, cheeks burning as he stared down at the pomegranate bowl. He felt something incredibly icy coating over him, shame and guilt for being spoken to this way by his mother. He couldn’t remember her ever losing her patience at him. 

“I’m going to get some errands done,” his mother continued, her tone still cold as she got off her stool. “Make something for dinner and study for your exams.”

“Okay,” Soonyoung said quietly.

His mother didn’t wait around after that, and seconds later Soonyoung heard the garage door opening and closing as she left.

He miserably picked up his phone and scrolled through his contacts, selecting a name after much hesitation. 

“Hey,” Soonyoung said, nearly rushing his words. “Um, I didn’t think you’d pick up… yeah. I know. I… I want to explain. But aside from that, I’m just having a hard time right now… I was wondering if you wanted to come over.” Soonyoung paused. “I really miss your cooking and I think it’d make me feel better right now. And we can talk, too.” He was beaming in seconds. “Alright. You’ll be over soon? Cool. See you.”

•

“Wonwoo?”

Wonwoo heard his mother entering his room, and the sound of the door shutting. His eyes were burning not only from staring at his textbook for the last hour, but also from the general horribleness of this whole Monday.

The gentle scent of his mother’s lotion drifted his way and he allowed his eyes to flutter shut, hearing her place something on the desk before wrapping her arms around him and holding him gently. “Everything okay, honey? I brought some fruit up for you, you didn’t eat anything after school.”

Wonwoo rubbed his eyes with his hands, dully resting his cheeks in his palms and gazing down at the small platter of orange slices she’d brought to him. “Thanks.”

He usually hated being held by his parents, that sort of thing was for younger siblings and clingy attention-seekers like his brother. He didn’t mind right now, though. Maybe Mingyu had been right when he’d said physical affection was one of the best forms of healing. 

Maybe if Wonwoo hadn’t always pushed Mingyu away. 

“You’ve just been closed off today, we know you like your quiet but you usually hang around downstairs for a bit before coming up here to do your homework… I didn’t even see you after school today, I was in the kitchen and if Jeongguk hadn’t told me you came home I’d’ve thought you went to a friend’s house.”

“I was talking to Jeongguk,” his mother went on, now stroking his hair like she used to do when he was scared of sleeping in his own bed when he was little. “And he mentioned something about you and Mingyu having a disagreement?”

“I’m changing my phone password,” Wonwoo grumbled. 

“Do you want to talk about it?”

Wonwoo deliberated on snapping at her that he didn’t intend to cry about his ruined friendships. Then he realized that this was probably one of the only times he could really rant about this whole mess without being judged too heavily, because hey, she was his mom. So he settled with a small nod and a “I guess I do.”

“He said it was something to do with you and Soonyoung working on a project of some sort together and Mingyu was left out?”

“It’s a bit bigger than that, mom…” Wonwoo sighed. “Mingyu asked me to run for government and I said no, and later I decided to with Soonyoung and I made the dumbest decision ever and literally forgot to put Mingyu on my committee like an idiot. And I tried to find Mingyu today to explain but he just got really mad at me because he’s been through a lot lately with Namjoon hyung, mom, you know how Namjoon hyung always makes him feel, and I’ve just added to all of that and I’m a horrible, horrible friend.” Wonwoo finished, gesturing wildly and slowly returning his hands to his lap.

His mother nodded, continuing to stroke his hair. “Have you tried talking to Soonyoung about it? He might have some advice, and if you two are running together it’s probably best that you understand each other.”

“Soonyoung thinks I’m an asshole- oh! Sorry, mom, I’m so sorry. He thinks I was in the wrong too.”

“Hm,” his mother said, doing her best to look taken aback at his language yet unable to conceal the sparkle of amusement in her eyes. “Well, why not go and talk to Soonyoung about it now? The two of you could put your heads together and come up with something.” His mother paused. “Mingyu’s a sweet boy and I’m sure he’s just feeling upset and confused right now. I don’t think he hates you, honey. If you and Soonyoung figure out some way to get him to come around, I’m sure things will be fine.”

“Soonyoung hyung might be busy right now, though…” Wonwoo trailed off. “He doesn’t even do anything after school. Yeah, I guess I could…”

“It’s a good break from studying,” his mother nodded approvingly. “You know, Wonwoo, your father and I worry about you so much, you’re always up here in your room, and it’s such a great thing that you’re so studious, but it’s made you reclusive…” she laughed softly. “We’d like you to get out more, you know? And exactly the opposite for Jeongguk. He’s the reason for most of these gray hairs, you know? Barely home, always out with that Taehyung and that Jimin… we’ve known those two for years but they never fail to surprise me.” Wonwoo’s mother smiled warmly at him, ruffling his hair in the way she knew he usually hated. “And we’ve known Mingyu for years too, honey, and I promise everything’s going to be okay.”

Wonwoo nodded slowly. “I guess I’ll go talk to Soonyoung then.”

“Alright. And on the way home, could you get Jeongguk from whatever computer game cafe he’s at? You know those better than I do.”

“Yeah,” Wonwoo sighed, idly picking up an orange slice and eating it. “I’ll finish these and go.”

“Okay.” His mother gently smoothed down his hair again. “You can always talk to me, okay honey? If anything’s bothering you. I don’t want to find out through Jeongguk that you’re upset. I want you to feel more comfortable talking to us about your feelings.”

Wonwoo nodded, feeling something strange pricking his eyes, no doubt from being pampered like this.. Dimly he realized they were tears and attempted blinking hard to dispel them, which only resulted in them spilling onto his cheeks.

His mother smiled sadly and carefully dabbed them away. “You’re so hardworking, Wonwoo, but you have to leave some room in your head for your emotions too, okay?”

He nodded again, trying very hard to prevent another tear escaping his eyes.

His mother seemed to understand his embarrassment and merely pressed a kiss to the top of his head, pausing on her way to the door to pick up his laundry before retreating into the hall and closing the door softly behind her.

•

“Fuck,” Soonyoung moaned. “That’s perfect.”

“You like it?” Mingyu asked, sounding pleased.

Soonyoung lifted his eyes from his plate, cheeks stuffed full. “I missed your cooking so much.”

Mingyu nodded, managing a small smile as he leaned against Soonyoung’s counter. He still looked hurt from Friday, yet less so; having mellowed slightly under Soonyoung’s compliment. “You wanted to talk?”

“I really, really want to rant about personal things,” Soonyoung said, lightly tapping his chopsticks against his plate with each word. “But to be honest I know there’s stuff we need to talk about first.”

“I don’t want to talk about Friday,” Mingyu blurted out. 

“But-” Soonyoung blinked. “But we deserted you.”

Mingyu smiled weakly. “That’s what Wonwoo hyung wanted, right? The two of you together again, best friends like how you were before I moved to Seoul?”

“What?” 

“I’m not an idiot.” Mingyu picked the cooled pan off the stove, carrying it to the sink and putting it under the water. 

“No, Gyu, that’s not at all-”

“I came here and you guys got messed up,” Mingyu cut over Soonyoung. “If I’d just stayed out of everything, you two would probably still be best friends.”

Soonyoung furrowed his eyebrows. “What? But you weren’t even part of the reason why-”

“I just mess everything up, okay?” Mingyu snapped, turning off the faucet sharply. “Just let me take this as another thing I’ve screwed up. You two fixed the mess, you two are together again, and I’m out of the picture. I don’t want to talk about Wonwoo hyung.”

Soonyoung stared at Mingyu, at this soft-hearted boy that’d suddenly become just like how Wonwoo had been after the fight.

Mingyu sat down next to him with a sigh, staring at the table. “I don’t blame you. I just… I can’t forgive him for that. Nothing’s going to change between you and me, but I don’t think I want to be friends with Wonwoo hyung anymore. That’s all. You’re still going to play soccer with me and we’re going to hang out with the team and all. Don’t worry.”

Soonyoung fidgeted in his chair. “Okay.”

Mingyu turned his gaze to him. “So what did you want to talk about?”

“Oh… right.” Soonyoung bit his lip. “Well, my parents… they’ve been, lately-”

The doorbell rang at that moment.

“I’ll get it,” Mingyu offered, hopping off his stool. Soonyoung swiveled around in his chair, curious as to who was at the door.

Mingyu swung the door open, coming face to face with a puffy-eyed Wonwoo. Soonyoung blinked. First his mother, now Wonwoo.

Shit. Wonwoo.

Wonwoo was at his door, and Mingyu had answered the door-

Wonwoo blinked at Mingyu, clearly confused as to why the latter was here. “Gyu?”

Mingyu turned to Soonyoung, eyes narrowed in suspicion. “You called him here, didn’t you?”

“No- I-” Soonyoung spluttered, getting off his stool. Mingyu had dropped all honorifics from his tone, which meant the younger was really angry. 

“When you convinced me to come over? You called him too, didn’t you? So the two of you could get me to forgive you for not picking me?” Mingyu accused. 

“Soonyoung didn’t call- I didn’t even know that you were here!” Wonwoo said, grasping Mingyu by the shoulder. 

Wrong move. 

Mingyu practically shoved Wonwoo away from him, and both older boys flinched.

“We didn’t mean not to pick you-” Soonyoung said gently. 

“Well, I’m over it anyway,” Mingyu spat, pulling on his coat. “You two can cozy up here now, seeing as I’m leaving.”

“Mingyu,” Wonwoo said placatingly, still in the doorway. “Gyu, just listen-”

“I already spoke to  _ you _ this morning,” Mingyu seethed. “Get out of my way.”

Wonwoo remained frozen stiff, so Mingyu elbowed past him, causing the older to stumble slightly as Mingyu stormed down Soonyoung’s driveway and into the night.

Soonyoung caught Wonwoo by the elbow and dragged him inside, closing the door as he glanced at the lean boy nervously. Wonwoo looked like he was about to yell or break something. 

“Sit down, sit down,” Soonyoung said hurriedly, pushing Wonwoo onto the couch and retrieving water from the kitchen, handing the glass to Wonwoo.

Wonwoo sipped at the water, so tight-lipped that Soonyoung was pretty sure he wasn’t even getting anything. 

“There’s one confrontation out of the way, at least,” Soonyoung attempted at a joke, but from the cold glare he received from Wonwoo, he was pretty sure it wasn’t appreciated.

“What the fuck do I do now?” Wonwoo demanded when the water was finished.

Soonyoung winced. “Let it simmer for a bit. I’m sure he’ll come around.”

“That sure looked like he’d come around,” Wonwoo said hoarsely.

Soonyoung sank onto the couch next to him. “Well… what’d you come over for?”

“To talk to you about Mingyu,” Wonwoo grumbled. “What was he here for anyway?”

Soonyoung shrugged. “Called him over to cook for me, and to talk about stuff. Parents.”

“What’s with your parents?” Wonwoo asked, and then, “Mingyu cooked? Is there anything left?”

Soonyoung was still hungry, seeing as he’d been through barely half his plate when disaster struck, but having taken in Wonwoo’s disheveled, desperate countenance he decided the younger needed sustenance more than him.

Wonwoo gave the half-eaten bowl a look. “I mean leftovers not from your plate.”

“We shared chopsticks for half our lives, I assure you my saliva hasn’t evolved since eighth grade,” Soonyoung said sarcastically, giving Wonwoo new chopsticks anyway out of courtesy.

“I am not going to get into the science of that,” Wonwoo mumbled, already stuffing his mouth. Soonyoung tried not to laugh. First, this was the second dinner that he and Wonwoo had shared in a week. If someone had told him a month ago that he’d be seeing Jeon Wonwoo for weekly dinners he’d’ve laughed his ass off. Second, it was testament to Mingyu’s amazing cooking skills that even the princely Jeon Wonwoo was eating like it was his last meal.

Mingyu’s cooking that they’d probably never get to taste again.

The smile fell off Soonyoung’s face at the thought of the dull, monochromatic life they were in for.

“Anyway, your parents?” Wonwoo asked.

Soonyoung shrugged. “I don’t really want to talk about it.”  _ With you. _

After all, yeah he and Wonwoo were forced to work together now- tutoring, government, their Mingyu Predicament… but that didn’t mean he was going to spill family stuff to someone that’d been out of his life for the last three years.

Wonwoo nodded, chewing slowly. “Well, if you ever need someone to talk to maybe you could talk with Jihoon. He reads so much psychology stuff that he’s probably a certified therapist at this point.”

Soonyoung laughed out loud at the idea of sitting down with stone-faced Jihoon and explaining his anxieties over his parents. “I’m sure he’d really enjoy that.”

“So cool how he got into editorial, though,” Wonwoo mulled. “I admit I’m still carrying grudges against him, but that’s really something to respect. They don’t just take anybody.”

“Jihoon is seriously the best. He’s so chill. I just wish he saw us as friends.”

“For the last, last,  _ last _ time-”

“Oi, Jeon, if you do that whole ‘we’re not friends’ line one more time.”

“Yeah? What’ll you do?” Wonwoo asked amusedly.

“Whatever you’ll find the most distressing. Ooh, I know. I’ll leak your pikachu picture.”

Wonwoo gaped. “I forgot about that. You better delete it.”

“I already printed out a copy and have it taped up on my wall. Should’ve seen the look my dad gave me when he saw it.”

“No way.”

“Yeah way. Come on, I’ll show you.”

Wonwoo followed him up to his room, where he stood and stared miserably at the blown up rendering of his worst moment taped up on Soonyoung’s tiger orange wall.

“Nice, right?” Soonyoung beamed at it. “It gives me a good laugh when I need it.”

Wonwoo shook his head and sighed. “Great.”

“Now that we’re up here, wanna watch One Piece? I know you used to watch it back then and you liked it a lot, and you do look like you need a little cheer-up…”

Wonwoo checked his watch (he was probably the only high school junior that still wore one). “It’s eight, my curfew is eleven… hell, okay.”

“Nice,” Soonyoung said, flopping onto his bed and grabbing his laptop. “Come on, lay down. I’d get popcorn but my dad doesn’t like me bringing up food.”

“I don’t mind,” Wonwoo said, laying down next to Soonyoung and propping himself up on his elbows. “Thanks for doing this.”

“No problem,” Soonyoung said, and then, just because he knew how much it’d piss Wonwoo off, added in a little sing-song, “That’s what  _ friends _ are for.”

“Thin fucking ice, hyung.”

“Hehe. Right.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello!! 
> 
> i’ve been quite busy the last few days but here’s the update!! 
> 
> 🌺 i’ve also got a NEW STORY! here’s the link: 
> 
> https://archiveofourown.org/works/27728066/chapters/67866950
> 
> please check it out it would mean a lot! 🌺
> 
> anyways i’ll see u guys soon with chapter 24! 
> 
> tell someone u love them today! i love you all <3  
> -mingyuwu


	26. 24. dance proposals and more tutoring

Seungkwan fidgeted in his seat.

What a miserable Tuesday it was. 

Actually, life had been miserable for him since Friday.

Friday- watching Mingyu literally tear up across the classroom and not being able to do anything, watching his crush run out of the room in complete distress- it’d been horrible.

And yesterday Seungkwan had noticed how off Mingyu was, and had debated walking over before their teacher had come in to ask the older boy how he was. But maybe Mingyu didn’t want to talk to him, because Seungkwan wasn’t even close friends with him. He might think it was clingy or weird for Seungkwan to want to make sure he was okay.

“I don’t think hyung’s going to hate you for asking him if he’s fine,” Hansol said exasperatedly from the desk next to Seungkwan, clicking his pen mindlessly, watching the ballpoint’s tip hit the desk repeatedly and make tiny dots upon the polished wood.

“He’ll probably think I’m a stalker,” Seungkwan mumbled, chewing on his lip anxiously and casting a glance over at the slightly younger boy. “You know you’re making marks on the desk, right?”

“Huh?” Hansol blinked. “Yeah. Sorry.” He put the pen down, turning quarter-ways in his seat so he could face Seungkwan properly. “Just go over and ask him how he is. It’s not a big deal. In fact, why  _ are _ you making it such a big deal?”

Hansol was too smart. If Seungkwan wasn’t careful, Hansol would find out about his big fat crush on Mingyu. Seungkwan had already been treated to a long-winded explanation yesterday from Hansol about how he’d tracked Junhui and Minghao to the corner store near their apartment complex and basically spied on them through the shelves, Hansol having concluded after this monologue that he was attempting to set the pair up with the help of Chan. No way did Seungkwan want Hansol to play matchmaker for him, no matter how close they were. 

“I just don’t want to intrude,” Seungkwan settled with, hoping that’d appease Hansol.

Hansol shrugged. “I was talking to Jeongguk, he said that Wonwoo hyung was pretty hung up on all of this. Plus, Jeongguk literally asked us to check up on Mingyu hyung for him, remember? In the group chat.”

Seungkwan groaned. “Great. Can’t he ask Mingyu hyung himself? Jeongguk’s practically always talking to him anyway.”

“He doesn’t have any classes with him this year.” 

“What about Taehyung or Jimin?” Seungkwan asked, naming the two other boys that he, Hansol, and Chan had become friends with through Jeongguk. The six of them hung out regularly now after school, and Seungkwan had to admit that the other five boys were pretty good companions.

“Taehyung’s got something or the other with Mingyu hyung, some art class, I dunno. But they’re not close enough for Taehyung to ask him.”

“Perfect.” Seungkwan chanced a glance to the door, then to the clock suspended above it. “Oh. I don’t think I’ve got enough time, the bell’s going to-”

On cue, the aforementioned bell sounded and cut him off, soon followed by Jeonghan’s velvet-smooth voice over the intercom reading out today’s announcements before hanging up.

Their teacher still hadn’t come in, which was surprisingly late for the already usually-tardy woman. Benefits of having a lazy teacher first hour- spending half the period fooling around.

To everyone’s excitement, an unrecognizable teacher aide rushed in, announcing that their teacher was absent today and it was a study hall, before explaining that their teacher had taken an unplanned absence and therefore there was no substitute on hand, finishing with a warning for the class to be quiet and work until the end of the period before leaving and closing the door behind themself. 

Now how to stall this conversation for an hour-

Seungkwan glanced over to find Hansol smirking at him. “Get your ass over there, Boo.”

Seungkwan sighed and picked himself up, treading across the room and around clusters of students that’d moved their desks together upon the good news. 

Mingyu glanced up as Seungkwan arrived in front of him. “Hey?”

Seungkwan smiled shyly. “Hi, hyung. Can I sit here?”

“Sure,” Mingyu replied lightly, taking his books off the empty neighboring desk. “Not partnering with Hansol today?”

Seungkwan glanced over to find Hansol making eyes at him across the room. 

It looked like someone had already figured him out.

“Oh no,” Seungkwan said vaguely, watching Hansol make a series of attempted-subtle hand motions that conveyed something along the lines of ‘how’s it going?’. “I don’t work with him usually.”

“Really?” Mingyu asked mildly, watching Hansol amusedly. “I see. He’s so animated all the time, isn’t he? Energetic thing. He’s a real asset to the soccer team, you know. Strong player.”

Hansol furrowed his eyebrows at Seungkwan, mouthing the words “ _ what’s going on? _ ”

“Yeah,” Seungkwan said absentmindedly. “He’s really a… special friend. Always distracting me.”

Mingyu chuckled, patting the desk on his right. “Sit, then. I’ll do my best not to distract you.”

Seungkwan tore his eyes from the practical mime-show taking place across the room, sitting down next to Mingyu and inhaling the latter’s cologne as he did so, feeling as if he was going to sink through the floor as he took in Mingyu’s physique. He felt like he’d never really looked at Mingyu so properly up close. This was definitely very bad for his heart.

“So why’d you walk over here without your textbook, claiming that you want to work with me?” Mingyu questioned, and Seungkwan startled out of the trance he’d fallen into, watching Mingyu write so smoothly with his left hand. Yeah, left handers weren’t rare persay, but Seungkwan personally thought that everything Kim Mingyu did was die-hard handsome. 

“Oh- um…” Seungkwan pinked. 

_ No, no, do not try to flirt, Boo. You’re here to ask if he’s okay. Do not fuck this up by flirting badly.  _

“I just wanted to thank you for the macarons, you know, from last week. Realized that I never did.”

_ Fuck, fuck, fuck- _

“Oh,” Mingyu said, looking pleasantly surprised as he put his right arm around Seungkwan, then made a sound of dissatisfaction upon the desk being slightly out of reach, simply dragging it closer  _ without even trying _ . “I’m glad you liked them.”

“Yeah,” Seungkwan said excitedly, on cloud nine with the feeling of Mingyu’s arm around his shoulders. He remembered Seungcheol telling Jeonghan how proud he was of Mingyu accompanying him to the gym every day and keeping up with Seungcheol’s rigorous workouts. 

It certainly was paying off. 

“I wish I could bake like that,” Seungkwan chose to say next.

_ WHAT ARE YOU DOING? NOW HOW DO YOU SEGWAY INTO WHAT HAPPENED ON FRIDAY AND ASKING IF HE’S OKAY?! _

__ Mingyu smiled, and it was like the heavens had cracked open and poured sunlight straight down onto Seungkwan. “I can teach you sometime, if you like. They’re not so hard.”

“Heh,” was all Seungkwan managed, and he barely restrained himself from slapping a hand over his mouth for making such an undignified sound in front of Mingyu.

_ Relax. At least you didn’t say something stupid about his body. Great. Now that’s what you’re thinking about, isn’t it? _

Mingyu merely grinned brighter, and Seungkwan was at least relieved that Mingyu seemed in a better mood than he’d been in yesterday. That had to mean he was feeling better, right?

“So,” Seungkwan said, feeling extremely fluttery as Mingyu went back to writing with that godlike left hand, his right arm still wrapped around Seungkwan comfortingly. “Um, I just wanted to ask about Friday-”

“Mingyu?”

If looks could kill, Ryujin would be a dead girl. Seungkwan tried his best not to glare at the bold girl as she perched on the edge of his desk to talk to Mingyu. How dare she talk to him without any sort of respectful honorific? Seungkwan didn’t care that Ryujin and Mingyu were the same age. Ryujin wasn’t Mingyu’s friend. She had no right to talk to him so casually. 

Seungkwan firmly told his jealous heart to shut up and stop slandering his fellow Chamber member this way. He had zero reason to hate on Ryujin. Zero. 

His stupid heart didn’t listen. 

Mingyu cast Ryujin a beaming smile, letting Seungkwan go. “Hi!”

“Um… I was waiting for you to ask me after last Monday, but I realized it’s just better if I tell you what I want, despite it probably coming across as a bit forward,” Ryujin said firmly, flipping her hair over her shoulder. 

“Shoot for it,” Mingyu replied.

“Will you go to the dance with me?”

Mingyu blinked slowly up at her, face blank. “What?”

“Will you… go to the dance… with me,” Ryujin repeated.

Seungkwan felt like throwing up. He felt hot and cold all over, something uncomfortably squeezing over his heart and spreading over his body until he felt like he couldn’t breathe. 

A grin curled onto Mingyu’s lips. “Sure.”

“Really?”

“Why not?”

“Cool,” Ryujin said happily. “I’ll text you later?”

“Yeah.”

Ryujin turned to Seungkwan, still smiling. “You’re coming to the rehearsal at lunch today, right?”

Seungkwan nodded emptily, Ryujin giving him a thumbs up before hopping off his desk and heading back over to her friends, turning around once to give Mingyu a smile over her shoulder, which the latter returned easily before turning to Seungkwan.

“Imagine just getting a date like that,” Mingyu said numbly, still staring after Ryujin. “Did that actually happen or…”

“It happened,” Seungkwan confirmed. “Um… I think Hansol wants to tell me something. I’ll talk to you later, hyung.”

“Okay,” Mingyu agreed, still grinning after Ryujin, cheeks flushed with the excitement of being asked out.

Seungkwan nodded, getting up and walking back over to Hansol, slowly sitting down next to the impatient boy.

“So what did he say?”

“Who?”

“Mingyu,” Hansol said exasperatedly. “Who else?”

“I don’t know. Ryujin asked him out. He said yes.”

“Oh no,” Hansol said, worried. “Are you okay?”

“Why wouldn’t I be okay?”

Hansol winced. “Okay, don’t kill me, but I was talking to Chan a few days ago and he mentioned that he was talking to Seokmin and Seokmin made a joke about you liking Mingyu.”

“What?”

“I don’t think Chan understood the implications of that, seeing as he just said it in passing, but I’ve been watching you for the last few days, Boo, and you’re obvious as hell.”

“Shit.” Seungkwan winced. “Seokmin was joking. He teases me about liking people. That’s it. It’s a joke.”

“Please don’t insult my intelligence.” Hansol leaned closer. “So how long have you-”

“Hansol,” Seungkwan snapped. “I don’t feel like talking right now. Okay?” 

Hansol blinked, slowly pulling away. “Right. Sorry.”

“Thanks,” Seungkwan said coldly, opening his books. 

Miserable Tuesday indeed. 

•

“Happy Tuesday,” Wonwoo said as greeting when he arrived at their usual table, Jihoon the only other occupant so far.

Jihoon hummed in reply, writing busily. He was already being tasked on a report about a recent survey the psychology 3A class had made. Editorial was certainly going to keep him occupied this year.

“Where are the other two?” Wonwoo proceeded to question him with.

Jihoon shrugged, typing rapidly. “They’re your friends, not mine.”

“Excuse me, Soonyoung and Junhui are definitely not my friends.”

Jihoon hummed, contemplating on the next statement he was planning to spring on Wonwoo. He decided to go on and say it. “Not your friends, but you were at Soonyoung’s place until midnight yesterday? Soonyoung was quite honored that you broke your curfew rule to stay over another hour at his.”

“What?” Wonwoo spluttered, and it was certainly satisfying to see the younger’s face flush so drastically. 

“Junhui’s added Soonyoung to his ‘school-chauffeur’ service, so every morning I’m treated to a long monologue about what Soonyoung did after school the day previous in extreme detail. Thank god those two have dance in the evenings and I can go home alone.” Jihoon paused typing, glancing up to read Wonwoo’s face before continuing. “Anyway, this morning Soonyoung was telling me about how you came over but your other friend Mingyu was also at Soonyoung’s place or something like that, and after this big explosive shouting match-”

“-it was not a shouting match-”

“-well, Soonyoung described it as a blazing row, so I think I’m actually downplaying his obvious exaggeration. Anyway, he says that you two hung out afterward and watched anime until midnight.” Jihoon smirked at Wonwoo. “Now isn’t that couple-y of you two?”

“Shut up,” Wonwoo said, face red. “He’s- we’re- I’m straight. I’ve told you this before.”

“Yeah, you’re ‘straight’-” Jihoon paused for a chuckle. “But is Soonyoung?”

Wonwoo stared at him, uncannily resembling a fish out of water.

Jihoon sighed, shaking his head as he returned to his document. “For a class-topper, Jeon, you’re really not the brightest lightbulb in the box, are you?”

Wonwoo sat in dumb silence for the next two minutes until Soonyoung swept into the library, Junhui in tow.

“Sorry we’re a bit late,” Soonyoung said as he sat down next to Wonwoo. 

“Now what is Junhui doing here?” Wonwoo asked Soonyoung exasperatedly, Jihoon observing how Wonwoo had shoved his previous awkwardly thoughtful silence under the rug as soon as the latter had arrived. “You know that you aren’t going to learn anything with Junhui distracting you across the table.”

Junhui snickered in agreement. He was getting fluent fast.

“Don’t worry, I’ll keep him occupied,” Jihoon replied, patting the seat next to him. “Come here, kid.”

Junhui sat down, smiling happily at him as he leaned over to read what Jihoon was writing. “Practice.”

“Quietly,” Jihoon warned him. “I can’t have you murmuring in my ear for an hour. It’s going to kill me.”

•

Wonwoo was still flushed and he knew it.

But he willed himself to stay relaxed as he opened his books, sliding another sample practice test to Soonyoung. “There you go.”   
“This again?” Soonyoung grumbled, picking up his pencil.

“Yep.”

Wonwoo had nothing to look at while Soonyoung did his work, so he just looked at Soonyoung.

Soonyoung’s bleached-blonde bowl haircut that was floppy and soft; Soonyoung’s sharply slanted eyes that were focused on the paper in front of him; Soonyoung’s pink tender lips, pursed slightly as he perused the questions; Soonyoung’s smooth skin and sharp jawline-

Wonwoo startled, realizing he’d been staring at Soonyoung for nearly three minutes without blinking. 

He felt Jihoon’s eyes on him across the table and did his best to prevent himself from blushing. 

It’d just been so long since he’d been close to Soonyoung- well, not close as in being friends. But working together on so many things at once made them forced to interact in close quarters. So he was just relearning all those delicate features of Soonyoung’s face that he’d forgotten. It’d been a long time.

_ Get a grip, Jeon. What are you doing? Why are you even thinking that way? Do you just have to make everything dirty? Is that it? _

__ “Done,” Soonyoung said, handing the paper back to Wonwoo. 

“Okay, let’s see,” Wonwoo said, pushing everything in his head aside so he could check Soonyoung’s answers. Soonyoung chose this moment to, for some reason, place his head on Wonwoo’s shoulder, evidently wanting to see the answer key too.

And now Wonwoo was overwhelmed with not only Soonyoung’s physical attributes but also the scent of the latter’s cologne, some fragrance that Wonwoo couldn’t name because Soonyoung had always been into those things more than he had.

“Hold the key up a little higher, I can’t see,” Soonyoung ordered, and when Wonwoo had done as he’d asked, effectively masking them from the other two’s line of sight, Soonyoung moved his head to rest his chin on Wonwoo’s shoulder instead, angling his face to murmur in Wonwoo’s ear, 

“How’re you holding up, Won?”

Sensory overload.

Wonwoo stared at the paper, barely moving his lips as he asked, “Why’re you asking me this now?”

“I didn’t want to ask you in front of the other two. In case you felt flustered.”

“We’re still technically in front of them, just whispering.”

“They can’t hear us. I’m an expert whisperer. Just answer the question.”

“I’m okay.”

“Talked to Gyu?”

“After yesterday? Hell no. He’s made it clear that making up will be on his terms. I’m not going to go after it again and get my limbs ripped off by Seungcheol. I’m going to just smile at him a lot. Or something. I don’t want to think about it or talk about it.” Wonwoo hated how cold he sounded, but it was the only way to mask the horribly miserable and guilty weight pressing down on him. 

Soonyoung moved his face again, nuzzling his cheek in Wonwoo’s shoulder and yawning. “I’m so tired after last night.”

Unfortunately, Soonyoung chose to say this innuendo-like statement at normal volume after spending the past minute murmuring to Wonwoo behind the paper. That probably looked really great to Jihoon. 

“You’re the one who invited me to stay late,” Wonwoo replied, and wished he’d never said that out loud, because that just sounded like further innuendo.

“Yeah, well.”

“Are they kissing or something behind that paper?” Junhui asked loudly and in perfect Korean.

Wonwoo whipped the paper away from their faces, now sure that he resembled a tomato. “Excuse me?”

Soonyoung cackled. “I’ve taught Junhui well. Already dirty-talking and sounding fluent.”

“We were not kissing!” Wonwoo said loudly, glaring at Soonyoung to back him up.

Jihoon sniggered. “That’s what they all say.”

Junhui began making kissy sounds, and Wonwoo hated how much that riled him up. He was seventeen years old, for gods sake. These kinds of things were not supposed to bother him. He was mature and should be able to rise above playground taunts. 

But this wasn’t even true. He didn’t like Soonyoung and he wasn’t gay or bi or anything that wasn’t straight and they hadn’t even been kissing.

“We were not!” Wonwoo said, nearly yelling now.

“Keep your voices down or I’ll have you out of my library,” the librarian said sharply as she walked by, holding an armful of books. 

“Sorry,” Wonwoo apologized, then made sure she’d walked off far enough before turning back to the others. “We were not! Soonyoung- hyung, back me up.”

“Of course we weren’t,” Soonyoung said in the dumbest way he possibly could, making everyone start laughing harder. Everyone except Wonwoo.

“I’m leaving,” Wonwoo snapped, standing up and hitching his bag up his shoulder. “I’m not going to waste my time trying to tutor you if you’re just fooling around. I told you you weren’t going to focus today.”

Soonyoung stood. “Won- hey, Won. We didn’t mean it like that. We’re just messing around with you. It’s funny when you get pissed like that, is all. Nobody actually thinks we kissed, okay?”

“Oh, it’s funny?” Wonwoo said irritably. “You know what, I’ve already got messed up friendships right now. And if you’re really my friend like how you say you are, you should probably be trying to make me feel better, seeing as I’m pushing aside all of my guilt and sadness and coming here to tutor you today when I could just be at home wasting my Tuesday away because I feel like a piece of shit. I don’t need this and especially not from any of you, seeing as none of you really even know who I am or anything about me.” 

“Don’t be like this, Won, it’s just a little teasing, okay? We’re sorry, alright.”

“Sorry,” Junhui echoed after Soonyoung, eyes shining with worry. “Didn’t mean to.” He slumped into his seat. “Should just be quiet. Not talk. Mess things up.”

“We were really just messing around,” Jihoon added. “Sit down and don’t make a scene.”

“First,” Wonwoo said, pointing at Jihoon, “don’t tell me what to do. I don’t care if you’re older than me, I’m not giving you respect yet. Secondly, Junhui, I don’t blame you for making a joke. I can’t blame you because you’re still new here. I’m just annoyed that Soonyoung, knowing how I take teasing, kept going after the joke.” 

“Yeah, pin it all on me,” Soonyoung said sarcastically. 

“Maybe I fucking will,” Wonwoo replied coldly, picking up his things. “Move.”

“Wow. Really? After everything I did for you yesterday?”

“Yeah, really. Get out of my fucking way.”

Wonwoo didn’t give the other three another look as he left the library.

He contemplated finding Jeonghan as he entered the cafeteria. Jeonghan, although probably being disappointed in Wonwoo for the whole Mingyu thing, would probably be sympathetic enough to let Wonwoo sit with him for today. Hopefully he wasn’t sitting with-

Jeonghan and Seungcheol were sitting with Mingyu between them, the three having what looked like a great time from where Wonwoo stood.

And just his luck, Seungcheol glanced up and saw Wonwoo somehow, scowling over in his direction before turning his attention back to Mingyu to help him with the straw of his banana milk.

That was  _ Wonwoo’s _ job, not  _ Seungcheol’s _ .

Perfect.

So friendless cold nerd Jeon Wonwoo spent the rest of his lunch hour in an empty dark classroom, wondering why he screwed up everything in his life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> that was fast, wasn’t it? XD 
> 
> anyways here it is!! i don’t have much to say for this chapter except sorry seungkwan and jihoon soonwooists president. pls comment with what u liked or any predictions bc i love reading them hehe
> 
> anyways stay healthy everyone!! and happy late thanksgiving to any readers that celebrate. 
> 
> by the way, the date in the story currently is 10/13. if anyone was wondering
> 
> i’d also like to add that i DO NOT ship mingyu and ryujin in real life. i literally just needed girl characters and picked itzy and twice to cameo lmao,, it’s random i promise. pretty sure mingyu and ryujin have never interacted in real life so ✌🏼
> 
> tell someone you love em today!! i love all of u <3  
> -mingyuwu


	27. 25. post-practice dinners and long awaited calls

“Why won’t you let me drive you home?”

“I can’t explain,” Minghao said evasively, shutting his locker and swiping his sweaty bangs out of his face.

“Come on,” Junhui dragged out the last word pleadingly, leaning against the locker next to Minghao’s and sinking to the floor.

“I’m taking the bus, alright?” Minghao glanced up and down the empty hallway. It was Wednesday, after dance practice, and he was rightly exhausted. He just wanted to go home, have a shower, stuff some food in his mouth, bury himself in PCSAT studying, and fall asleep over his books. Apparently Junhui had other plans.

“Hao, pleaseeee.”

Minghao felt his neck heat up with that nickname. “Are you sure you’re the older one? Because you’re acting like a baby right now, hyung. Get up before someone comes into this hallway. And speak a little slower. We don’t speak much Mandarin at home and although I can still call myself fluent I can’t keep up when you go that fast.”

“First,” Junhui said, sticking his finger up in the air. “Nobody’s coming into this hallway because it’s 5 PM and school ended three hours ago. Second, let’s not use Korean honorifics because we never talk in Korean anyway so it’s useless. Plus, I like it when you call me Junhui. Third, you should be glad I’m helping you practice your Mandarin.”

“First,” Minghao grinned down at Junhui, imitating the latter’s voice, “janitors still exist and they’re probably cleaning the school. Second, I was already planning to drop the honorific soon anyway because you’re a big baby. Third, of course I’m glad you’re helping me ‘practice’ but you’re seriously such a fast talker.”

“First-” Junhui laughed, standing up and instantly towering over Minghao. “Let’s not do that anymore, it’s too tiring and I can’t find three more things to list. Anyway, I’ll try to speak a little slower but no promises. And why can’t you just let me bring you to my place for dinner?”

“My parents wouldn’t like it,” Minghao said uneasily, inventing rapidly. “We probably won’t be able to return the favor, you know, and it’d be rude of me to intrude-”

“We don’t care, we don’t need you to return the favor,” Junhui whined. “Come on, Hao, please.”

_ If my dad checks my phone and finds my location to be at your house he’s going to peel both our skins off and boil us in my mother’s teapot. _

__ “How about we go somewhere instead?” Minghao argued, trying to find a middle ground as they meandered out of school and into the deserted parking lot, only the cars of students busy with after school activities sprinkled through the lot. 

Junhui shrugged, tugging his backpack straps. “I don’t care where we go. But let’s go somewhere. I don’t know many places around town, though, I haven’t gotten the chance to explore much.”

“There’s a little  _ malatang _ place nearby, family-run actually. It’s close to the Diamond Cafe- that’s the place we went to the day of the lacrosse game. Tastes like home, if you want to check it out.”

“Really?” 

“Yeah. I know the way, you can drive.”

“It’s settled,” Junhui grinned, opening the passenger door of his Mercedes for him. “I’ve been craving hot pot lately. Get in, let’s go.”

•

The phone was ringing as Seokmin stepped into the house. 

He hurriedly dropped his backpack in the foyer, walking to the landline in the kitchen and picking it off the wall. Antique, but that was how his father wanted it, so Seokmin didn't mind. 

He checked the number, but the area code was completely foreign. He didn’t even think that area code existed in Korea.

Spam caller, perhaps.

Seokmin placed the landline back on the wall, and hummed his way to the fridge, cheerfully retrieving several tangerines and sitting down to peel them.

The phone rang again, and he sighed, standing up and picking it up, recognizing the number this time. “Dad?”

“Tried to call your cell, but I think you turned it off,” his dad chuckled. 

“Oh, oops.”

“Anyway, I might be heading home a little early today. A little father-son dinnertime tonight?”

“Really?” Seokmin asked excitedly.

“Yeah, of course. Think you can get dinner on the table by six?”

Seokmin checked the time, biting his lip. One hour was a little tight. “I might need some help from the master chef, but I think so.”

“Alright, then,” his dad chuckled, knowing exactly who Seokmin was talking about. “I’ll see you soon, bug.”

“Bye, dad.” Seokmin laughed softly as he hung up, finishing the tangerines and turning to the fridge again, pausing and getting his phone from his bag. Turned off as usual.

“Hey,” Seokmin greeted the other when they picked up. “I need your help.”

A sigh. “Dinner?”

“One hour.”

“Oh god. Remember what happened last time?” 

“I really, really need your help or I’m gonna burn everything, and my dad’s coming home early today and I want to make something special for us. I promise I can do it if you just teach me over the phone. Just this once.”

“Fine. Just this once.”

Seokmin grinned, knowing it was never  _ just this once _ , because that was what he had said last time, and the time before that, and the time before that.

“Thanks, Gyu. You’re the best.”

A laugh in answer. “Get the broth out of the fridge.”

“Yessir.”

•

“It looks cute,” Junhui said approvingly as they stepped inside the  _ malatang _ place, looking around as the comforting smell of familiar food greeted them. 

The place was clearly family owned; it was a small yet cozy establishment with several tables cluttering the space, red banners with gold hand-painted Mandarin draped from the ceiling, the air warm and welcoming.

“It tastes amazing,” Minghao said, leading Junhui to a free table and sitting down. “Just trust me.”

“I’ll order the same as you,” Junhui hummed, perusing the menu. “Hao knows best. Impress me.”

Minghao snickered. “Yeah, right.” A pause, and he added, “Are you going to the school dance tomorrow?”

Junhui leaned back in his seat. “I’ve considered it.”

“And?”

“I mean, I might as well go. Nothing better to do with my Friday. You’ll be there, right?”

“Yeah, of course,” Minghao blushed, staring down at the menu.

“Cool.” Junhui flicked through another page of the menu himself, hoping that he looked immensely casual for someone that’d just asked Minghao so simply if he was going to a dance.

“You’re- going with anyone?” Minghao followed up with.

Junhui shrugged. “Not into the couple thing right now. I’m not seeing anyone, so.”

“Oh,” was all Minghao said.

Well, he’d take that. 

“Speaking of couples, I think I screwed up stuff yesterday,” Junhui grinned. “I accidentally made a kissing comment between Soonyoung hyung and Wonwoo hyung. They looked like I’d committed arson in front of them. And Wonwoo hyung got super angry and left.”

Minghao nodded, looking intrigued. “Damn. Wonwoo hyung doesn’t usually lose his chill that quickly, though. Must’ve just been a bad day for him.”

“Are you sure they aren’t… I mean, that they’ve never…”

Minghao grinned. “Well, Soonyoung hyung’s been gay forever and I think everyone knows except Wonwoo hyung. I mean, it wasn’t even anything that had to be said. We just kind of… figured it out. Social cues. Which Wonwoo hyung doesn’t really get.”

“And Wonwoo hyung?”

“What about him? At the least, he’s a bisexual that’s closeted to himself. If you haven’t figured it out yet, a majority of our little group is relatively far from straight-ness. I mean, goodness, Seungkwan exists, and you don’t have to be an astrophysicist to understand the looks he gives to Mingyu, who of course is obliviously lacking the two brain cells needed to figure out that Seungkwan’s been into him since the start of the year.”

Junhui laughed so hard that the passing waiter gave him an incredulous look. He couldn’t help it. Minghao’s trademark sardonic humor was just so refreshing.

“Anyway, don’t feel bad about what you said,” Minghao said dismissively. “Wonwoo hyung likes to act cold but he’s really all bark no bite. And he’s soft as hell for his younger friends. Plus, you said that he told you he didn’t blame you.”

“I do feel better,” Junhui admitted. “I guess I just assumed he was as taken to jokes as my friends back in China. I’ve always been bad with boundaries.”

Minghao chuckled. 

“What?” Junhui demanded with mock offense.

“Glad you can admit it. Remember when you like, grabbed me at the Chamber showcase?”

Junhui choked. “I was holding you! You made that sound so perverted!”

“You were wrapped around my shoulder, Jun, it was terrifying.”

Junhui paused, having realized how nice it was to hear Minghao call him by the nickname only his family did. Minghao paused too, hesitant.

“Sorry, you said not to call you hyung and I- it kind of slipped out like that, I can just call you Junhui if you want-”

“No,” Junhui found himself saying. “No, I like it. It’s fine. More than fine, actually, it sounds pretty good-”

“Alright, alright. You’re rambling again, you know,” Minghao said, eyes sparkling as he lightly nudged his foot against Junhui’s under the table. “Do you never stop talking?”

“I…” Junhui smiled sheepishly. “Talking is my nervous habit.”

“I make you nervous?” Minghao’s smile only widened. “Shouldn’t it be the other way around, Jun hyung?”

That was too many attacks at once on Junhui’s poor feeble heart, but luckily their waiter came their way to take their orders and saved Junhui from answering anything that could make him look stupider. 

What a meal this was going to be.

•

“Check the stove, I bet you’ve been neglecting the stew-”

“I looked thirty seconds ago!”

“I don’t care, you can still be looking at it and neglecting it,” Mingyu hissed through the phone, sounding rightly stressed. He’d been coaching Seokmin through dinner preparation for the last half an hour.

“It’s fine, it’s fine,” Seokmin said, feverishly stirring the pot. “Smells okay.”

“Does it  _ look _ okay?”

“Eh.”

A sigh.

“One day I’ll be able to cook like you,” Seokmin vowed. “You were gonna give me classes over the summer, remember?”

“Yeah, but then soccer camp happened.”

“And you left me like this,” Seokmin moped, stirring around the contents of the pot for a few more seconds before dropping a lid over it. “Your best friend. Your same-year soulmate.”

“Yeah, yeah. I’ll come over sometime, maybe next week. Grab Minghao too, it can be like old times.”

“So you mean you cooking and Hao and I fooling around?”

“Nailed it. Although Hao’s so busy with Junhui hyung these days…”

Seokmin grinned, lounging against the counter as he held the phone to his ear. “I know. What do you think that’s all about?”

“Okay, Seok, no need to make everything gay. Let them at least  _ pretend _ to be straight for a while.”

Seokmin burst into laughter just as the landline began ringing again. “Hold up, let me get this.” Holding his cell to his ear, he answered the landline with his free hand. “Hello?” he said exasperatedly, noting that it was the same foreign number.

All he heard was a soft sniffle, and a woman’s voice that asked very softly, “Seokmin?”

Seokmin blinked, his heart pounding in an ungainly manner in his chest as a single word dominated his mind.

“Who is it?” Mingyu asked curiously in his other ear.

Seokmin shook his head, then realizing that Mingyu couldn’t see him, pushed the landline far from his mouth to turn and reply to the cell. “I… I don’t know…”

“What did they say?”

“Wait. I’ll call you back…” Seokmin didn’t wait for Mingyu’s reply before disconnecting and pulling the landline back to himself. “Hello? Who is this?”

Silence on the other end of the phone, and another sniffle.

“Hello?” Seokmin repeated, and almost hung up-

“Seokmin, it’s me… mom.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i’ve been so busy and i’m sorry that this is so short. 
> 
> lately i’ve been running out of motivation everywhere so even writing has been really hard. to be honest it feels so easy to give up but at the same time this story is so popular and i’ll feel good when i finish.
> 
> i’m just so so tired. if anyone has anything motivating to say now is the time omg
> 
> but i have a good chapter coming soon, so please stay with me!! 
> 
> tell someone you love them today please! i love all of you thanks for supporting this and continuing to read it. <3


	28. 26. dances and drama

“Promise me something,” Seungcheol said casually.

“Yeah?” Jeonghan looked his way as they sat down upon a table, surveying the gymnasium that had been, over the last few hours, converted into a 90’s dance floor by the student government party committee. It was Friday, and the school-wide fall dance was in an hour. 

Seungcheol picked a stray confetti streamer from Jeonghan’s hair. “No… no arguing tonight.”

“It’s not like we plan to argue with each other.”

“Yeah, well,” Seungcheol managed a laugh. “You’d be lying to yourself and me if you tried to deny that’s all that’s going on between us lately.”

Jeonghan smiled slightly. “I guess. Alright. No arguing tonight.”

“Cool.” Seungcheol slid off the table, standing up and stretching. “Let’s get home and change into dancewear.”

“Wait until you see the nineties style I’ve bought for tonight,” Jeonghan grinned, grabbing his boyfriend’s hand as they made their way out of the school.

•

“Come on, Kwan, it’s going to be fine,” Seokmin said gently.

Seungkwan huffed, straightening his blazer. “Yeah. Right.”

“You should’ve just asked him out,” Soonyoung suggested unhelpfully.

“That makes me feel loads better,” Seungkwan said bitterly. “Thanks, hyung. Great advice.”

“I bet you won’t even have to talk to him,” Seokmin soothed. “Don’t worry.”

“Just a stupid little school dance,” Soonyoung added. 

Seungkwan shrugged, still moody. “Yeah.”

“Boys?” Soonyoung’s mother poked her head into his room, finding all three ready and standing in front of Soonyoung’s mirror. “I’m ready to drive you three.”

“Actually, Won said he can drive us,” Soonyoung replied. “He should be here any moment now.”

Mrs. Kwon seemed surprised. “Alright then. He still hasn’t fixed things with Mingyu?”

Soonyoung sighed. “Nope.”

“Maybe they can talk tonight.” A triple honk sounded outside and Mrs. Kwon beamed. “I guess that’s your ride, then?”

“Yep. Thanks though, ma,” Soonyoung said as they passed her, pausing to give his mom a hug as she straightened his blazer’s lapel. “I love you.”

“I love you too, honey. Good choices tonight okay? You three stick together.”

The boys snickered, but agreed and headed down the stairs. 

“Your mom knows about Wonwoo and Mingyu’s argument?” Seokmin asked as they stepped down into the foyer.

“He tells his mom everything, the big baby,” Seungkwan grinned.

Soonyoung rolled his eyes, slinging his arms around his best friends. “She’s my best friend. Of course I tell her everything. My mom is the coolest.” He opened the front door, finding Wonwoo’s Maserati in the driveway, the headlights bright and blinding. “Almost feels like we’re getting a luxury ride to the dance.”

“Except it’s kinda lame because none of us have dates,” Seokmin contradicted as they pulled on their shoes and headed out, everyone turning their phone ringers on.

“You just had to bring that up again,” Seungkwan muttered, whistling opening the back door. “Woah! Won hyung, this ride is  _ sweet _ .”

“Thanks,” Wonwoo’s silky voice emanated from inside the car as Seokmin slid into the back and shut the door, leaving Soonyoung standing stupidly still outside.

A few seconds of pause, and then the passenger window rolled down. “Soonyoung, you going to get in the front, or?”

“Yeah,” Soonyoung said slowly, then blinked, getting inside and closing the door. He turned around to fasten his seatbelt and was met with Wonwoo’s handsome countenance, slung in the driver’s seat, slender fingers drumming the wheel, dark hair dropping into his eyes.

Safe to say, Soonyoung lost his train of thought.

•

Wonwoo was much too preoccupied to think about the weird way Soonyoung was staring at him on the way to the dance. 

He’d heard from Soonyoung who’d heard it from Hansol who’d heard it from Seungkwan that Mingyu had gotten asked out by some Ryujin girl. And Wonwoo felt like shit that he wasn’t going to be there to support his best friend on the first dance he was going to with a date. A real date.

Wonwoo smiled wryly as they pulled into school, parking the car carefully in a slot slightly far from the doors, which were clustered with students being slowly admitted into the dance. He was sure Mingyu was very nervous yet excited for tonight, and he’d make a point to look around during the dance to find his clumsy puppy dancing with a pretty girl. Poor Mingyu. 

“Did we really have to park this far?” Soonyoung grumbled, unbuckling his seatbelt and drawing Wonwoo from his thoughts. 

“I don’t want some raucous people to pull out of their spot later tonight and crash into the expensive luxury car my dad took a long time to reluctantly trust me with,” Wonwoo replied with a touch of asperity, getting out and shutting the door behind himself, waiting for Seungkwan and Seokmin to exit the back before locking the doors, sliding the keys securely into his pocket. “Parking a little farther from the popular spots is worth the walk. Come on, let’s go.”   
The sun was already long set despite it only being 6 PM, October’s presence made well known as it went far enough to ruffle through the boys’ hair with icy breeze and make them all look windswept by the time they arrived at the doors.

“By the way,” Seokmin said as they stood in line, everyone fishing their ID cards out of their pockets. “You won’t believe who called two days ago.”

“Who?”

Seokmin lowered his voice, making sure that only the other three were listening. “My mom.”

Seungkwan looked surprised. “The one in Germany?”

Seokmin rolled his eyes. “I only have one mom. And you know the cool part? I knew as soon as I picked up the phone and heard her voice, that it was her. I guess it’s just that bond between mother and son-”

“Yeah, yeah,” Soonyoung said impatiently, waving his hands as he gestured Seokmin to go on. “What did she say?”

Seokmin shrugged. “I don’t know. I’d barely just answered her when my dad came in and asked me who was on the phone. I told him it was her, he didn’t believe me, he took the phone from me, started talking to her, it sounded like it was getting heated, so I escaped upstairs.”

Seungkwan’s jaw dropped. “No way. You didn’t even, like, eavesdrop?”

Seokmin shook his head, pure as ever. “No.”

Wonwoo felt the need to interject, seeing as he was rather lost. “Is your mom on a business trip?”   
“His mom left him as a baby with his dad,” Soonyoung said dramatically.

“And moved to Germany,” Seungkwan finished.

“Oh,” Wonwoo said, feeling extremely horrible for asking something so stupidly. He should’ve known not to ask about people’s parents like that, hell, his own best friend had lost a parent to war. He also felt guilty for not knowing this about somebody when they’d been technically part of the same friend group for years. Wonwoo was sure it’d come up, he probably hadn’t even paid attention. “I’m so sorry.”

Seokmin shrugged, looking unaffected. “Don’t be. I never knew her.”

“I always tell him not to be so nice about it,” Seungkwan said. “I mean, my dad left my mom for ‘business’ and ‘his career’ and went to America before I was even born. I hate him for that. I can’t not hate him. It’s a fucked up thing to do, you know? Leave a pregnant woman alone and go to the States. Sure, Seokmin’s mom wasn’t as bad as my dad, but she still left without explanation. I hate that he’s too nice to even feel anger towards his mom for doing that.”

Wonwoo blinked, nodding slowly. He wasn’t sure how he’d gotten himself stranded in such a deep conversation. 

Luckily, at that point in time they’d arrived at the doors, and after passing through the identification check they were free to socialize.

Seokmin and Seungkwan vanished in seconds, and Wonwoo found himself standing in the hallway with Soonyoung as formalwear-clad students mingled around them.

“So…” Wonwoo fumbled. He didn’t really know how to  _ mingle _ with other people. His best friend usually took care of that for him and dragged him along behind, but said best friend wasn’t really available for catering to Wonwoo’s poor social skills at the moment. 

Soonyoung was, fortunately enough, very well trained in social skills, and simply grabbed Wonwoo by the arm. “Come on, Jeon, let me show you a good time.”

•

“My baby bear’s all grown up,” Jihoon’s mother sniffled, dusting off his suit lapels.

“Mother, please,” Jihoon grumbled, just as the doorbell rang. “That’s Junhui. He’s driving me. I should get going now-”

“Just one more picture?”

“Mom!”

Mrs. Lee smiled, pressing a kiss to the top of Jihoon’s head. “Be responsible, okay? Stay safe.”

“Yes, I will.” Jihoon rushed to the door, knowing that if he didn’t open it soon, Junhui would think it extremely funny to keep pressing the doorbell.

He swung it open to reveal Junhui, decked out in a deep navy blazer, white rose boutonniere pinned to his chest pocket.

Jihoon nearly choked on his laughter as he pointed at the flower. “What’s that?”

“Matching with Minghao,” Junhui said simply, the answer recited with perfect pronunciation.

Jihoon snickered, giving his mom a wave as he followed Junhui out the door and back out to the waiting Mercedes, which was alight and humming. He caught sight of several heads in the car’s interior. “Did he tell you to say- how many other people are you giving a ride?”

“Can’t speak Korean,” Junhui chose to reply with, gesturing Jihoon to get in the back as he crossed around to the front.

“You literally just-” Jihoon sighed, shaking his head as he swung open the door and threw his head back in frustration. “Junhui!”   
Hansol and Chan waved at him from the backseat. 

Jihoon winced as he climbed inside, Chan scooting aside and squishing into Hansol so Jihoon could fit. “I don’t think this is legal!”

“Three seats in back, three people!” Junhui shrugged, backing out of the driveway. 

Minghao twisted around in the passenger seat to beam at Jihoon. “Hi, hyung!”

“You’re here too?” Jihoon sighed. “Tell Junhui this is madness. He doesn’t even have his license renewed as legal in Korea yet and he’s cramming us all in here-”

“You won’t believe what I did to get in here,” Minghao said, speaking very rapidly. “I’m talking fast so Junhui can’t understand me. Basically my parents hate him, he has no idea, long story, can’t explain- so I told them I was going to get ready for the dance with Hansol and Chan after school, and that Hansol’s friend was going to drive us to the dance. Plot twist- the friend driving us is Junhui, and he parked across the street from our apartment complex so my parents wouldn’t see us!” Minghao blinked expectantly at Jihoon, still gesturing at himself with jazz hands as if he’d created a masterplan.

“Why are you talking so fast?” Junhui exclaimed.

Minghao answered him in Mandarin, earning a laugh. 

“What did you say?” Chan asked curiously.

“I said I was telling you guys a secret that he can’t hear.”

“And that made him laugh?” Hansol said dubiously. 

Minghao chuckled. “It’s not hard to make Junhui laugh.” He made eyes at Jihoon. “I don’t know you very well yet, but Junhui’s adopted you and I’ve adopted Junhui. So please compliment my plan, Jihoon hyung.”

“Am I supposed to give you a cookie for it?” Jihoon asked dryly. “Well done, I guess. What’s with the boutonnieres?” He added, for he’d caught sight of an identical white rose on Minghao’s blazer.

Minghao shrugged. “Hansol bought these and said that between the three of us- me, him, and Chan- whoever lost rock paper scissors would have to wear one with Junhui.”

Hansol and Chan grinned in unison. Jihoon was pretty sure he was the only one who caught that.

“We’re gonna party!” Junhui whooped as they pulled into school, selecting the first spot he saw and swinging the Mercedes right into it. “Let’s go! Let’s go!”

“Yes, yes,” Minghao laughed as they got out of the car, Junhui bouncing up and down with energy. “We’re coming.”

“You all- slow. We go- and keep,” Junhui said to everyone else, grabbing Minghao by the wrist and gesturing at the lines forming outside the doors to the school.

“You guys walk slowly, we’re going to run ahead and save a spot for all of you in the line,” Minghao translated to understandable language wearily, not spared any further as Junhui began propelling him alongside himself across the lot.

Jihoon laughed despite himself, feeling comfortable to walk with Hansol and Chan despite barely knowing the other two. “So… I expect you two scripted that rock paper scissors game out?”

Hansol and Chan stared at him like two fish out of water.

Jihoon grinned. “Come on. I’d ship them, too. They’d look cute together.”

After a few glances at each other, the two freshmen relented and began grinning sheepishly, nodding in acknowledgement.

“My first high school dance,” Chan said dreamily as they walked across the parking lot towards the crowds massing by the doors. 

“It’s not as special as you think,” Jihoon chuckled. “Trust me.”

They arrived to where Junhui and Minghao stood, and began pulling out their ID cards as the line moved forward.

“Woah,” Hansol said suddenly, grabbing Chan’s arm. “Woah. Who is  _ that _ ?”

They all turned to see a beautiful girl standing far behind them, only three-fourths of her face visible as she turned to talk to the handsome tall boy right next to her. 

“The girl, or the guy?” Minghao squinted as the people blocking the way shifted, lost in their own conversations. “Wait. Isn’t that-”

The girl shifted, revealing the boy to be Mingyu, his hair gelled off his forehead, a few strands curling back over into his eyes. He was wearing a lilac boutonniere, to match the corsage on the girl’s wrist.

The girl turned casually as she continued speaking to Mingyu, her eyes wandering over the line in front of her for any familiar faces, and Chan burst into laughter as she grinned over at them, waving back at his fellow Chamber singer. “Sol, that’s Ryujin!”

Hansol blinked. “No way!”

“She’s always been pretty,” Chan shrugged, as Hansol stared at Ryujin, who’d gone back to talking to Mingyu. “I guess… she just looks extra pretty tonight.”

Jihoon tried not to laugh at the look on Hansol’s face. It looked like the double-trouble duo weren’t going to be pulling any more tricks to get Junhui and Minghao together tonight. Hansol had his hands full.

“She’s here with a  _ date _ ,” Minghao reprimanded Hansol, grabbing him by the shoulders and turning him to face the front. “Not just any date. Your favorite Mingyu hyung.”

“Do you want to be his favorite hyung?” Chan teased Minghao.

“I’d just assume I was, seeing as I’m the one that’s raised the kid and live down the hall,” Minghao sighed dramatically, fixing Hansol’s hair. “But what can I say. Hansol and Mingyu are the same breed.”

“You’re my favorite,” Hansol lied absentmindedly. “And I’m sure Mingyu hyung wouldn’t mind if I asked her to dance once,” Hansol said, trying once again to peer back at Ryujin. Junhui snickered on Jihoon’s behalf, despite having barely understood a small portion of the conversation.

Jihoon felt himself starting to enjoy himself. Perhaps tonight would be more fun than he’d expected. 

•

Joshua was ready.

He was not holding back any longer.

So when he sashayed into Pledis High’s decked out gymnasium, he cast his eyes around for his prey and stalked over.

Oh, he was going to be a homewrecker, all right.

Jeonghan turned around and found himself face to face with a dangerously flirty Joshua Hong. “Oh! Hi. Wow, your hair! When did you-”

“After school today. Yoongi hyung took me, he’s still at home from college,” Joshua said, smirking as Jeonghan, wide eyed, took in the bleached-white locks he’d gotten done earlier in the afternoon. “You like it?”

“I quite honestly can’t stop looking at it,” Jeonghan answered. “It’s so pretty!”

An irritable face appeared behind Jeonghan. “What’s going on here?” Seungcheol looked Joshua up and down, his eyes lingering on the latter’s hair. “Hong.”

“Hi,” Joshua beamed sweetly. “Like my hair, hyung?”

“It’s a bit flashy for my taste, but it looks alright,” Seungcheol said stiffly.

“It’s flashy?” Joshua blinked innocently. “But Jeonghan has got bleached hair too?”   
Jeonghan turned accusing eyes on Seungcheol. “You think my hair’s flashy?”

“What? No-” Seungcheol stuttered. “I mean, I like it on you-”

“I’ll get a drink,” Joshua said to Jeonghan, cutting Seungcheol off. “Want anything?”

“Water or cider is fine. Careful with the fruit punch if you’re going for that, someone’s probably already laced it,” Jeonghan said to him, distracted moments later with snapping something at Seungcheol.

Satisfied, Joshua turned and disappeared into the crowds.

•

“I can’t believe her,” Seungkwan muttered, chewing his lip furiously. “I can’t!”

Seokmin glanced through the swaying crowd to where Mingyu and Ryujin were dancing. Mingyu’s mind seemed to be elsewhere; he was staring out over the crowd with a blank expression on his face, forcing a smile onto his lips whenever he looked down at Ryujin, his hand on her waist in the lightest way possible. Ryujin herself was holding Mingyu’s shoulder and looking up at him like he’d illuminated every star in the night sky.

“Can’t believe her for what?” Seokmin questioned delicately.

Seungkwan huffed. “You wouldn’t understand.”

“Well, if it makes you feel any better, I don’t think Mingyu really wanted to slow dance,” Seokmin said, watching his best friend avoid Ryujin’s beaming face. He glanced over at the other best friend right next to him, sighing at Seungkwan’s distraught expression. “Come on, Boo. Cheer up.”

“They’re right there, though,” Seungkwan said sadly. “Right there! And the music’s all pretty and slow and-”

“And over,” Seokmin finished as the song ended, immediately replaced with a bass-boosted pop song that had couples breaking contact as the single people crowded onto the floor again to start, as Soonyoung would say, ‘throwing it back’. “The slow song is over. Let’s go over and say hello.”

“I don’t want to talk to them.”

“Sometimes it helps,” Seokmin offered, and began leading the way over.

Mingyu and Ryujin were blushing and smiling at each other by the time Seokmin arrived. Fervently hoping a kiss hadn’t happened- because that would’ve really broken Seungkwan’s heart- he glanced behind him to see Seungkwan squeezing his way between the last partygoers separating them.

Mingyu caught sight of them and, looking relieved, waved and walked over, hugging Seokmin tightly.

“What’s wrong?” Seokmin whispered, noticing how tightly Mingyu was grasping at him.

“Why are girls so hard to talk to?” Mingyu hissed in his ear. “I don’t know what to say! I’m supposed to be a natural charmer!”

Seokmin almost burst into laughter. If Mingyu could barely talk to her, then there really was no possibility of a kiss tonight. Thank god.

Ryujin joined them, and, seeing how Mingyu was still holding onto Seokmin for dear life, deciding to greet Seungkwan, who gave her a stone-faced expression in reply but managed a fake smile and compensated by using a more dramatic and excited voice as they exchanged a conversation.

“You can let me go now, she’s talking to Seungkwan,” Seokmin murmured, and Mingyu slowly parted from him, casting a wary glance over at Ryujin.

“Seriously, Seok. I’ve just realized that I don’t know how to talk to girls at all.”

“Well, you spend all your time talking to Wonwoo. Of course you don’t.”

Mingyu choked, face reddening quickly. “You made that sound very, very wrong.”

Seokmin was too busy making sure Seungkwan hadn’t dragged Ryujin out to the parking lot to beat her up to notice Mingyu’s sudden shyness. 

“I can’t survive another three hours of this,” Mingyu moaned quietly. “Where’s Soonyoung?”

“Talking to Wonwoo over at the refreshment table.”

“Gods, I can’t escape him,” Mingyu grumbled. “Wonwoo here, Wonwoo there. Why is he even attending? He hates dances and parties and social events. Couldn’t he just stay at home so I can have one good experience this week?”

“Maybe tonight’s a good time to make up,” Seokmin suggested, instantly regretting it at the look Mingyu gave him.

“Excuse me? Forgive him? It’s been barely a week since the results are out, and you want me to just forgive him like that?” 

“I mean, it’s just something to consider,” Seokmin backtracked hurriedly.

“Yeah, whatever,” Mingyu sulked.

“Gyu, come on, let’s go take some pictures at the photo booth!” Ryujin called out, already disappearing through the crowds.

Mingyu made a face. “She’s nice and pretty but I don’t think I like her. Does that make me a shit guy?”

“No,” Seokmin comforted. “Everyone has their own taste. Just because someone’s sweet to you and looks good doesn’t mean that they’re the right person. Just go take some pictures with her tonight and be a gentleman because that’s the nice thing to do and she’s clearly really into you.”

“Okay,” Mingyu sighed. “And I think I’m going to lose it if she calls me ‘Gyu’ one more time. You know I hate it when others do that.”

“Others as in?”

“People that aren’t our friends. And now Wonwoo,” Mingyu finished darkly.

Seokmin suppressed his sigh. “Okay. Well, just try not to go off on her tonight.”

“I’ll do my best,” Mingyu agreed, turning and giving him a last parting wave before following after Ryujin into the masses.

•

“You think he’s having a good time?” Wonwoo asked Soonyoung for the fifth time, his eyes following Mingyu and Ryujin as they moved across the dance floor.

“Go ask him.”

Wonwoo glared at Soonyoung. “No way. Seungcheol’s here. Remember the violent warning he gave me?”

“Yeah, well…” Soonyoung snickered. ‘Who would’ve thought we would be hanging out together at a school dance?”

“I’m only with you right now because I don’t have anyone else to talk to.”

Soonyoung pouted. “Thanks a million.”

“You’re welcome- augh!” Wonwoo spun around, finding Junhui grinning at him, the bastard still beaming after jumping on him from behind. “What is with you?”   
“Oops,” Junhui smiled. “Are you having fun?”

“Not really,” Wonwoo said, turning back around to look at Soonyoung, who was beaming and exchanging greetings with Minghao, Chan, Hansol, and Jihoon. “You all came together?”

“I am never, ever, driving with all these people again,” Jihoon replied, accepting the water that Soonyoung handed him. “What’s this for?”

“To drink,” Soonyoung replied obliviously.

“But- well, you’ve put your mouth on it,” Jihoon said. “And I didn’t ask for anything.”

“So?” Soonyoung shrugged. 

Jihoon rolled his eyes, tipping his head back and waterfalling from the bottle.

“So, who are we stalking from here?” Chan asked brightly.

“Nobody,” Wonwoo said.

“Mingyu,” Soonyoung replied. 

Hansol snorted. “Sorry, Wonwoo hyung, but you sound like an elementary schooler with a crush.”

“Oh, shut up,” Minghao said. “Look, there’s Mingyu and Ryujin coming out of the photo booth.”

“Now what were they doing in there?” Soonyoung wiggled his eyebrows.

Chan gave him a look of disgust. “Taking pictures. What else?”

“Ah, innocence,” Junhui said mildly, causing everyone to look over in concern.

“Junhui understands much more than he lets on,” Minghao explained, grinning at the latter, who winked over at him.

“Are they together or what?” Soonyoung muttered to Wonwoo. 

“Stop,” Wonwoo shook his head. “You are the worst. Let them be.”

“How’s editorial?” Junhui asked Jihoon, drawing their attention back to everyone else.

Wonwoo was pretty sure that he’d never seen Jihoon looking so excited. “It’s great. I know I complained about it before filling the application, but I found out that it’s really way better than I thought it was going to be. Apparently I’m ‘raw talent’. I’ve got a few big projects on the way and I can honestly say this is the most passionate I’ve felt about something in a while.”

“He’s grinning, look at him,” Hansol nudged Chan, both of the youngest smiling at Jihoon’s beaming expression. 

Wonwoo realized he was smiling too, and tried to stop, but he couldn’t. If he had to admit it, Jihoon wasn’t as annoying as he’d made him out to be. He actually seemed like a pretty down to earth guy. Except when he was shipping Wonwoo with Soonyoung, which was still very unappreciated. It’d be fine if Soonyoung similarly shut it down, but he just giggled along like it was a big joke. Wonwoo did not like jokes. People spent way too much time fooling around these days.

“Stop looking so emo,” Soonyoung whispered to him. “What’s going on?”

“Nothing,” Wonwoo said, blinking to regain his stance on the conversation. Somehow everyone had progressed to ranting about calculus and derivatives in the time he’d spaced out. “What are we talking about?”

“Just how absolutely horrible the math education is at this school,” Chan grumbled. “What’s the point of cram school if we’re not even covering trig inverses in freshman year?”

“Hansol and Chan absolutely hate cram school,” Minghao informed everyone else. “I get treated to this every morning on the bus.”

“I could drive you every morning,” Junhui smirked at Minghao, switching to Mandarin and delivering another comment that made Minghao giggle like an idiot and smack the older boy’s arm.

“What did he say?” Hansol asked. 

“Just that he’s always lonely in the morning and I’m good company,” Minghao smiled, still pink.

“Does nobody else notice the flirting action?” Soonyoung whispered to Wonwoo, raising his voice then to add, “So Jihoon and I are bad company, Junhui?”

Junhui grinned and stuck his tongue out in reply.

Wonwoo decided that there was no room for him in this conversation, and began looking around for Mingyu again.

He couldn’t help it. He’d always thought of Mingyu as that annoyingly endearing best friend that talked your ear off all the time and had stupid habits and accidents and mistakes that Wonwoo had to help him out of. Wonwoo was just now realizing that he needed Mingyu just as much as he’d always thought Mingyu needed him. 

He felt even more shitty than he had earlier today, when he’d come home after school and just fallen onto his bed and cried without any reason. That had been a real low point. Wonwoo couldn’t remember ever doing something like that. Those were the kind of antics that he’d always thought Jeongguk pulled to get comfort and attention from their parents. Luckily nobody had noticed, but Wonwoo guessed he now understood that crying wasn’t always to make people feel sorry for you. It actually had felt good in the moment. He hadn’t ever let himself cry like that.

Speak of the devil- Jeongguk himself arrived behind Hansol and Chan, wrapping an arm around both of them. “Hey, bros.”

“Aye,” Hansol grinned, engaging Jeongguk in a complicated friendship handshake. “Why didn’t Wonwoo hyung drive you?”

“I wanted to,” Wonwoo laughed, trying his best to remind himself that he was with his friends and he had to hold himself together. “He wanted to go with Taehyung and Jimin. They walked all the way to school, I guess. We live in the second neighborhood behind the school, so mom said it was okay.”

“It’s not a long trip,” Taehyung agreed, arriving next to Jeongguk and taking up Chan’s hand in the same handshake. “Come on, guys, Jimin found Seungkwan, and some other guys set up karaoke in the 2C classroom down the hall. We even snuck some food in. Let’s go.”

“But I wanted to dance,” Chan grumbled.

“We can dance later, the songs are crap right now and our food’s getting cold. Come and sing first,” Taehyung cut him off, looping his arm through Chan’s and dragging him off, Jeongguk and Hansol waving at everyone before following.

Jihoon, Minghao, and Junhui were now engaged in a conversation about science electives. Soonyoung was watching him strangely, and Wonwoo was just standing there feeling horrible- again, without reason. 

He was still feeling shaky and disoriented. 

Everything was just too loud. The damn music and lights and talking and all of it. He just wanted to go home. It was such a stupid choice to come here tonight. He probably would’ve enjoyed it, but not when this whole week had played out in such a manner. 

“Guys, I have to go to the bathroom,” Soonyoung announced suddenly, pulling his arm around Wonwoo’s just as Taehyung had done to Chan seconds ago. “Won, come with me.”

“What- but why?” Wonwoo choked as they left the gymnasium.

“I want you to come.”

They turned left and entered the dark arts hallway, stepping into the first empty room- the sculpture classroom, from the looks of the pottery wheels around them. 

“The bathrooms are that way,” Wonwoo said stupidly. 

“I don’t have to go,” Soonyoung said simply.

“What?” Wonwoo shook his head. “Are you losing it?”

“No, but you looked like you were about to, back there.” Soonyoung produced yet another bottle of water, handing it to Wonwoo and pushing him down into a seat. “Are you okay?”

Wonwoo finally realized that Soonyoung had noticed his flustered state and pulled him out of the gymnasium before he embarrassed himself. Feeling grateful, he raised the bottle to his lips and took a sip. “Yeah. Just got lightheaded for a second.”

“The lights? Or the music? Or something else?”

“My thoughts,” Wonwoo replied.

Soonyoung nodded, perching on top of an empty desk and drawing his legs up, putting his shoes on the chair in front of him. “I get that.”

“Do you?” Wonwoo raised an eyebrow. “What do you think about that gets you like this?”

Soonyoung shrugged. “Stuff. My parents.”

“Your parents?” Wonwoo cast his mind back a few years to remember how Soonyoung’s parents were with each other. His dad had always been a bit strict yet kind, and Soonyoung and his mother were like partners in crime. She was the sweetest woman ever. “What’s up with your parents?”

Soonyoung stretched out his legs. “Dad’s been really busy with work. It’s been taking a toll on my mom and they’ve been all tense lately. My mom was crying the other day. You know. When Mingyu was over.”

“Oh,” Wonwoo said, understanding dawning. That must’ve been the stuff Soonyoung had been reluctant to talk about. “I’m sorry.”

Soonyoung shrugged again. “It’s not like you did anything. It’s nobody’s fault. Not really theirs either. I just wish I could help.” He pulled his feet up onto the desk, tucking his knees under his chin and wrapping his arms around himself until he was just a tiny ball of a person. “I hate not being able to help. And you know how close I am with my mom. Too see her like that- it just sucks. All of it sucks.”

“I know,” Wonwoo sympathized. He suddenly felt overwhelmingly thankful that his parents were still together, that they loved each other so much, that they were always open to shower him and Jeongguk with adoration and care. He’d have to give his own mom a hug today. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d gone and initiated a hug with her. 

Soonyoung blinked rapidly a few times, and Wonwoo was shocked to realize that Soonyoung was actually tearing up a little. He panicked slightly. Wonwoo did not know how to comfort crying people. Well, crying people that weren’t Mingyu. Mingyu cried way too much for Wonwoo to not know how to deal with him. Although Wonwoo vaguely remembered that Soonyoung had been a pretty big crier too, back when they were friends and Wonwoo knew how to talk to him comfortably.

“I’m feeling better now,” Wonwoo said, to ease the silence. “We could head back, if you want. You might feel better if you spend some time dancing. It’s okay to take a few hours of mental break and not think about things that are hurting you.”

Soonyoung gave him a small smile. “Okay. Let’s go.”

Wonwoo stood and Soonyoung slipped down from his desk. They started for the door, when-

“...glad that he went home,” came a familiar voice from the hallway outside. “Honestly, I feel like he was just waiting for a moment to come and apologize.”

“Come on, Gyu,” a softer voice coaxed. “Try and relent on Wonwoo hyung a bit-”

“If Soonyoung and Seungkwan ditched you for something, Seok, you wouldn’t be so forgiving,” Mingyu snapped. Wonwoo and Soonyoung stared at each other from inside the pottery room, unbelieving of Mingyu’s tone. They’d never heard him so angry.

Quiet for a few more seconds, and then-

“I don’t want our friendship group to tear apart again,” Seokmin pleaded. “It just seemed like everything got fixed again-”

“Nothing is fixed!” Mingyu said bitterly. “Nothing was ever fixed, Seok! Seungcheol hyung and Jeonghan hyung are arguing every day because of that Joshua, Seungkwan’s miserable because of the musical, you’re stressing about your dad, Soonyoung hyung and Won hyung decided that they’re better friends for each other than I am and decided to leave me, Minghao doesn’t even talk to me anymore because he’s so busy with Junhui hyung, Hansol and Chan can’t even hang out because they’re spending time with each other, that Jihoon guy is just pissing me off because Won hyung picked him, some random nobody, for his committee rather than his fucking best friend. I’m failing history now, I have to listen to  _ halmeoni _ complain about me to Namjoon hyung every evening on the phone, I haven’t slept properly in the last week, and it feels like I’ve got nobody left! That’s what it feels like!”

Soonyoung turned to Wonwoo, his eyes wide. 

Wonwoo kept his eyes on the ground, trying not to cry. He felt like all of this was his fault.

“Do you want to go home?” Seokmin asked gently, and they strained to hear- the general volume had dropped significantly after Mingyu’s outburst. 

“No. I just needed a break.”

Soonyoung took an adjusting step, and Wonwoo turned to whisper to him to be careful, that there was a pottery wheel right next to him-

Soonyoung tripped on his undone laces and yelped, crashing into the wheel, which then slammed to the floor along with the flailing boy.

The voices in the hallway stilled, and Wonwoo knelt to help Soonyoung up as footsteps neared.

The door cracked open, and two silhouettes from the dim nightlights of the arts hallway appeared in the archway.

A shadowy hand reached for the lightswitch, and the pottery room flooded with color as the bulbs flickered on, revealing a disheveled Soonyoung wincing as he stood, and a wide-eyed Wonwoo, panicking as he stared at his best friend and said best friend’s other best friend in the doorway.

“It’s not broken,” Soonyoung said into the silence, Mingyu glaring at Wonwoo, Wonwoo staring at the ground, and Seokmin looking between the other three in pure confusion. “My back and the pottery wheel. Everything’s okay.”

Everyone turned to stare at him.

“Bad timing,” Soonyoung muttered, bending over to pick up the thankfully undamaged equipment.

“What are you guys doing in here?” Seokmin asked politely. Mingyu was simmering with anger, no doubt from the thought that Wonwoo had heard him ranting moments prior. 

“We were just-”

“They were busy doing best friend things, Seok,” Mingyu sneered. “You know. It’s not for commoners like us. Let’s leave them to it.”

Wonwoo glanced at Soonyoung for help.

Soonyoung stepped forward. “Mingyu, we didn’t mean to listen in on you guys. We were already in here when we heard you two coming into the hallway, and it would’ve been really awkward if we came out of here then-”

“Usually,” Mingyu cut Soonyoung off loudly. “People announce their presence if they don’t intend on eavesdropping on other people.”

“Can someone turn the lights back off?” Wonwoo interjected. “Students really aren’t allowed to be in hallways and classrooms during the dance, and if a teacher finds us in here, we’re all toast.”

“There’s no need for that, we’re not planning on staying,” Mingyu snapped. “Come on, Seok, let’s-”

Voices echoed from the hallway entrance yet again, and Seokmin flipped off the lights hurriedly, shoving the door shut and leaving the four of them inside.

“This room is really not meant for four hostile personalities to be locked up in the dark,” Soonyoung muttered into the quiet.

“I’m not hostile!” Seokmin whispered back. “I love all of you here. This is a problem between you three. Do not drag me into it.”

“You’re the one who dragged me into this hallway to ‘cool down’ so I think we can add you to this mess,” Mingyu hissed. 

“Shut up, all three of you,” Wonwoo whispered back, tiptoeing to the door in an attempt to peek through the small window next to it and figure out who else had decided to come into the arts hallway to talk.

The arts hallway itself was dark, but light spilled in from the commons outside the hallway’s large archway. This was just barely enough to illuminate the three people standing just inside the hallway, in deep discussion, their voices loud enough to decipher from inside the closed-door room. 

“... you can get information from Soonyoung?”

“No,” came a firm voice. “He’s my dance co-president and one of my good friends. No way am I going back on that friendship just for one government campaign!”

“But Hyunjin, think about how much you want to win this!” The same voice hissed. 

“Jisung, Hyunjin’s right. Let’s not be sneaky about this.” a softer voice started.

“I agree with Seungmin,” Hyunjin said, his voice low. “I’m not going to ask Soonyoung, however sneakily, about Wonwoo’s government plans. No.”

Jisung sighed. “I’m not saying to be sneaky about it! Think it through once. You’re close with Soonyoung, he’s told you before how much he hates Wonwoo!”

“That was before we made up,” Soonyoung mumbled in the dark.

“We have not made up, and after hearing that I don’t think we’re close to,” Wonwoo frowned, shushing them again to listen. “He’s still talking.”

“I don’t feel the greatest about it either,” Jisung was saying. “But think about it. It’s not just about getting plans from them. Do you really want two people that hate each other to be president and vice president of our school?”

Hyunjin sighed, seemingly conflicted. “I’m sorry. I’m not asking Soonyoung for anything. I want to win and win fair.”

Wonwoo rolled his eyes.

“Are there students down this hallway?” came a sharp voice. A teacher. And then, several footsteps, hurrying to the doorway-

“God, not this again,” Soonyoung mumbled, and seconds later the knob fumbled and three people spilled inside, shutting the door behind themselves.

“I told you we should’ve just talked in the gymnasium,” Seungmin’s voice came into the darkness. Their eyes hadn’t adjusted yet, they couldn’t see the four people standing around them. “Now we’re being chased after by teachers and all alone.”

“You’re not alone,” Seokmin chirped, and Hyunjin clapped a hand over Jisung’s mouth as the latter opened it to scream. “It’s us.”

“Us as in who?” Hyunjin whispered.

“Wonwoo, Soonyoung, Mingyu, and Seokmin.”

“Fuck,” Jisung muttered around Hyunjin’s hand. It must be awkward, realizing that the people you were talking about were right on the other side of a closed door.

The seven stood in silence, everyone staring at each other as visions sharpened to focus in the low light.

Heavy footsteps of teachers, sweeping down the hall and back to make sure there were no students wandering around in parts of the building they shouldn’t be in.

And then- gone.

Everyone exhaled in relief, sagging from the tense positions they’d been in as they’d anticipated their punishments.

Seungmin crept over to the door, peeking through the window. “They’re gone.”

“Let’s get out of here before any more teachers- or people sneaking inside- get in,” Wonwoo muttered, and that was at least something the seven of them could agree with.

As soon as Seokmin opened the door, he was off with Mingyu, the other three setting off at their own pace as they exited the hallway.

That left Wonwoo and Soonyoung standing alone in the dark.

“Well, let’s get back to the dance, then,” Wonwoo said, feeling his throat constrict with some sort of emotion.

“Won,” Soonyoung said suddenly. “What I said to Hyunjin, I’ve just- I’ve known him for a long time, alright? I was just frustrated these last few years with everything that’d happened between us. You know how I rant. I did mean all those things I said about you when I said them, but I don’t anymore.”

Wonwoo nodded, but it felt like it was just for show. “I know. We should head back now.”

Soonyoung seemed to recognize defeat when he saw it. “Okay.”

And like that, former friends left the dark room.

•

“Let’s have a dance,” Joshua offered Jeonghan. “Seungcheol’s in the restroom, he won’t mind.”

Jeonghan shook his head. He unscrewed the bottle of water that Joshua had gotten him, noting that it’d been sealed properly. He couldn’t help but be a little wary, all of Seungcheol’s posturing about Joshua’s previous drug abuse had gotten to his nerves slightly. But in all honesty, Jeonghan knew the effect he had on Joshua and he was pretty sure Joshua wouldn’t try to drug him at a school dance- the properly sealed bottle being evidence of that. “No thank you.”

The words left his lips automatically, but he already regretted saying them. Because as soon as he did, Joshua cocked his head at that adorable angle, white-bleached hair falling into his toffee-brown deep eyes, a smile quirking on his lips. “Shy, Yoon?”

“No,” Jeonghan forced out, but he was blushing. He couldn’t help it. He hated it, but he couldn’t help it. But he didn’t really hate it, deep down.

If only there was a way that he could have both Seungcheol and Joshua- but that was out of the question. He could only pick one, and if he had to pick he’d choose Seungcheol over and over. Joshua was just a temporary thrill. His residence here wasn’t permanent and there were plenty of pretty boys in Korea. Seungcheol was permanent, Seungcheol was Jeonghan’s future, and Seungcheol always chose him. 

But Joshua was a different kind of bold, Joshua was fiery and fierce and all the sorts of thrills that Jeonghan knew Seungcheol was too responsible to consider. Joshua was like a racecar that kept pushing the limit on the speedometer. He was flashy and fun and like the devil’s side of the coin. He was reckless and dangerous and exactly the sort of boy that Jeonghan’s parents wouldn’t like. And Jeonghan had spent so much of his life living in his parents’ shadow. His parents trusted Seungcheol. And sure, Jeonghan trusted Seungcheol too, but he wondered what Joshua would do with that trust. Somehow, Jeonghan felt that he wouldn’t even care if Joshua broke it. 

“If you won’t allow me the courtesy of a dance, how about a breath of fresh air?” Joshua offered.

Jeonghan could certainly use some air. His cheeks were burning at this point.

“Sweet,” Joshua grinned, even though Jeonghan hadn’t spoken. “My car? I’ve got a sunroof.”

“You have a car?” 

“Yeah. It’s a hybrid. Tesla.”

Jeonghan knew his eyes were way too wide to be appropriate.

Joshua snorted. “Your boyfriend’s not the only one who’s got money.” He put his hands in his pockets, shrugging. “I’m going. I need a little drive and it’s way too hot in here. I won’t force you to come with me, but as soon as your lovely man is back from the bathroom he’ll have his arm around you and I’ll be silenced with his glaring. He doesn’t like you talking to me, I think.”

“You’re right,” Jeonghan found himself saying. “He doesn’t.”

Joshua winked. “I bet you love that. Anyway, now’s your chance. If you wanna come, decide now.”

“Let’s go,” Jeonghan said impulsively. 

Joshua’s lips spread into an innocent smile. “Won’t Cheol hyung be mad?”

“Oh, he will be,” Jeonghan said, already heading for the doors out. “He certainly will be.”

To hell with that.

•

“Just one dance,” Junhui giggled, grabbing Minghao’s hands. “Come on!”

One may think he was drunk, but Junhui was just on an extreme sugar rush from all the fruit punch he’d had. Minghao had made sure it wasn’t laced- he’d only given Junhui juice boxes that hadn’t been opened instead of punch from the filler. And then had questioned his age as the older boy sipped from the straw like a three year old. Honestly. Nobody would think Minghao was the younger one. 

Minghao sighed, lightly untangling Junhui’s fingers from his. “No.”

“But why?” Junhui whined.

“Because guys don’t dance together.”

“Who said that?” Junhui swiveled, staring out at the crowd immersed in partying. He pointed at a gay couple. “Look. They’re dancing. I don’t know them, but they’re boys.”

“They’re together.”

“We’re together as friends.” Junhui tugged him towards the dance floor. “Come on, Hao, nobody is even watching. And if they’re watching, who cares? You look like you never have fun.”

“I’m too busy studying to have fun,” Minghao sighed, nevertheless indulging Junhui in a single spin, the older going way too far and dipping him to the floor, nearly dropping him in his sugar-inspired excitement. “Seriously, how much juice did you have? You’re acting like a hyper toddler.”

Junhui grinned, revealing his strawberry-punch stained tongue. Minghao found that incredibly endearing. “I’m a toddler when on sugar. Sorry.”

Minghao relaxed slightly in his arms, still glancing around to make sure nobody was glancing their way. 

The pop song transitioned suddenly to some sort of sweet ballad, and general booing echoed off the gymnasium’s walls as the strobe lights cutting through the dark stopped vibrating and instead began swirling along to the slow song. 

Couples began dancing as friends and single people meandered off the floor, yet Junhui didn’t let Minghao go, continuing to sway on the spot. 

“What are you doing?” Minghao hissed, trying to get out of Junhui’s arms as they turned with the crowd.

“Dancing with you,” Junhui replied with so much earnest that Minghao nearly melted right then and there.

What was going on?

He, Xu Minghao, was straight. Straight and orthodox. Not- not  _ gay _ . Not into boys. Not into Wen Junhui and his stupid childish ways and handsome face and pretty figure. No way. No fucking way.

Minghao’s parents had always preached to him the importance of man and woman in conventional marriage, that love existed so people could bond and make children. Minghao’s father, especially, had stressed that importance whenever Pride parades occurred in Seoul and the streets were flooded with rainbow festivities. 

Since he was a child, Minghao had been taught that he’d meet a sweet, obedient, pretty housewife-type girl and be the breadwinner of the family while his spouse cooked and cleaned and took care of their children. And since he was a child, Minghao had never felt completely comfortable with that idea. Not like he could say that to his parents; but the whole thing didn’t sit right with him. That ideal image of a family wasn’t his image of one. 

So Minghao couldn’t pull away. And he thought he knew why now.

“Junhui, please,” Minghao tried again. “We shouldn’t dance to something like this.”

Junhui grinned. “Just let me give you the happiest three minutes of your life.”

•

“These are the worst three minutes of my life,” Seungkwan muttered to himself. He was irritably watching Mingyu and Ryujin dance the night away. He hated ballad music now. He was quite sure he wouldn’t be singing any ballads for the next month.

“The cider is quite good,” Jihoon commented, meandering up to Seungkwan as he sipped on a can. “Have you tried it?”

“No. Busy.”

Jihoon followed Seungkwan’s gaze. “Is everyone in this friend circle some sort of unrequited lover?”

Seungkwan didn’t know Jihoon very well, but he was not appreciating this humor. “Please be quiet.”

“Hey,” came a panting voice from next to them, and Wonwoo and Soonyoung appeared, both red cheeked and short of breath.

Seungkwan gave them a look. “You two look like you were  _ busy _ . Fitting, seeing as the dance is nearly halfway through. People usually leave to go to more  _ private _ spots around now.”

Jihoon choked on his cider, and Soonyoung doubled over laughing as Wonwoo glared at Seungkwan. “Shut up. We just ran back, is all.”

“Long bathroom trip,” was all Seungkwan said, turning his attention back to Mingyu and Ryujin.

Seungcheol walked over to them, looking very stressed. “Have you seen-”

“Hansol and Chan are still doing karaoke with Jeongguk and the others,” Seungkwan answered before Seungcheol finished.

“What?” Seungcheol broke off, looking confused. “Wonwoo’s little brother is running karaoke?”

“Don’t attach my name to him when he’s doing something he’s not supposed to. I didn’t tell him to sneak a karaoke machine in here,” Wonwoo grumbled. “And Jeongguk isn’t little anymore. Fifteen is a perfectly good age to start blaming people for breaking rules. Give him a good detention.”

“I’m still not talking to you, Jeon,” Seungcheol snapped, still annoyed from the government announcements fiasco. “Karaoke, though?”

“In some empty classroom,” Seungkwan answered Seungcheol, dully staring off at Ryujin as she beamed up at Mingyu. “It’s kinda a blow, though. The food wasn’t even good.”

“We didn’t have karaoke on the plan, it’s not regulation-” Seungcheol broke off, sighing as he shook his head. “Whatever. I’ll deal with that later. I wasn’t asking about Sol or Chan. Where’s Jeonghan?”

Soonyoung blinked. “We thought he was with you. He’s always with you.”

“I was in the bathroom.”

Jihoon made a suggestive face. “And that’s why we thought he was with you.”

Seungcheol swore, standing on his toes to look at the crowd barely feet away, everyone lost in dancing. “I swear to god, if that bastard Hong-”

“They’re not dancing. I can’t see their two blonde heads,” Wonwoo said calmly after scanning the crowds, having a few more inches on Seungcheol’s height.

Seungcheol swore again. “Then where are they?”

“What makes you think they’re together at all?” Soonyoung questioned, hopping up and down in an effort to be helpful. “Oh, hey, look. There’s Junhui and Minghao. Wow, are they together or what?”

“I’d coo over that, but I’m really stressed right now.” Seungcheol ran his hands through his hair. “I bet they’re with each other, wherever they are. Hong’s such a sweet-talker, he probably convinced Han to leave with him.”

“Call him, then,” Jihoon said, making no attempt to see over the heads of people. 

“I did. Three times. Voicemail.” Seungcheol shook his head. “Gods.”

“Well, the song’s nearly over, you’ll be able to look for them properly in a minute,” Soonyoung started-

“Oh my god!” Seungkwan exclaimed, and everyone looked over to where the plum-haired boy was staring, his hands clapped over his mouth.

Ryujin had grabbed Mingyu and was now kissing him with fervor, the tall boy standing still in shock as the people around them cheered, most everyone still consumed in the dance.

A few seconds passed, the song even changed and people began jumping around again, yet Mingyu wrapped his arms around Ryujin’s waist and kissed her back.

Seungkwan felt tears building in his eyes and knew it would be much to expository if he cried right here.

So, without even leaving the others for an explanation, he turned and ran.

Seokmin crashed into him at the gymnasium doors. “Hey, I was just in the bathroom- woah. What’s wrong, why are you-”

“Hyung, I wanna go home,” Seungkwan sniffled. “I can’t be here anymore.”

Seokmin, grasping him by the shoulders, peered into the strobe-lit gymnasium, gasping softly when he saw the reason for Seungkwan’s tears. “Oh, shit.”

And without further ado, Seokmin wrapped a comforting arm around Seungkwan’s shoulders like the amazing older brother Seungkwan wished he really was, and led him quickly from the school, even though it’d be a long walk home and it was cold this late at night.

Seungkwan didn’t care. He cried into Seokmin’s shoulder the whole way home, the older practically supporting him up. He cried even as the older murmured that it was all okay, that Mingyu didn’t really even like her that much, that Mingyu was just being nice. He cried even as he sniffled through his explanation about how everything in his life was going so horribly lately. He cried even as he stood on his front door, Seokmin still holding on to him, cried even as his mother answered the door and immediately welcomed him into her arms. He cried all the way upstairs, he cried as he changed for bed and let his mother back inside, cried as she stroked his hair and sent him off to a peaceful sleep. 

Peaceful, because one can’t feel pain in their dreams. 

•

“Man, was that some party,” Soonyoung yawned as they traipsed from the building two hours later. “By the way, Seokmin texted me an hour ago, I just saw his message. He said that he took Seungkwan home early because Boo felt sick. That’s why we couldn’t find them after Seungkwan left all of a sudden.”

“Aww, that sucks,” Wonwoo said, too tired to make anything else of it. He couldn’t even remember Seungkwan rushing out. Soonyoung had grabbed him and Jihoon and dragged them onto the dance floor, and they’d jumped around like a trio of crazy idiots. Wonwoo really, really hoped that wasn’t caught on any film. “I’m sure he’ll feel better tomorrow, though. I’m just driving you, then?”

“Yeah,” Soonyoung said as they walked across the lot to the distant location of Wonwoo’s car. “You had fun?”

“I did,” Wonwoo said, smiling in surprise. “I really did.”

Soonyoung turned around, walking backwards and somehow avoiding the students milling around the dark lot, pulling their cars out and chattering to their friends. “Where’s your brother?”

“Taehyung’s mom is picking up the boys, all six of them- well, not Seungkwan, seeing as he’s gone home, I suppose. They’re having a sleepover at Tae’s.” Wonwoo chuckled, shaking his head. “I’ve heard Chan and Jimin are absolutely menacing on sugar, and of course Jeongguk and Hansol are super competitive at jenga and all sorts of sleepover games. I hope they don’t stay up too late.”

“Yeah, that’s already over the horizon,” Soonyoung yawned again. “Hey, I see Jihoon. He’s over there with Junhui and Minghao. Wanna go say hi?”

Wonwoo turned around, walking backward likewise to see and nearly getting hit by a car that was pulling out. He decided to walk properly, turning back around. “No. I’m too tired, and they parked all the way back there close to the school. Let’s just go home.”

“Kay.” Soonyoung stretched, walking closer to Wonwoo to avoid a group of giggling girls. “Do you even remember where we parked?”

“Of course I do,” Wonwoo replied, taking out his keys and clicking the unlock feature, hearing the Maserati’s familiar beep over the honks of the slowly moving car chaos of the parking lot. “Yep. Right where I remember it. Come on.”

They skirted several more straggling groups, watching for erratic student drivers as they finally made it to the Maserati.

Soonyoung slid into the passenger seat as Wonwoo did the same, settling into the driver’s seat and locking the doors, pushing the key into ignition. 

They sat there for a few minutes, staring out the windshield at the girls in the van opposite their car, talking animatedly and not moving out of their spot (Wonwoo knew pulling through the spots to the one acoss technically was against the rules but he was too tired to put any energy into navigating the car out of the spot backwards, what with all the people moving around behind them and the other cars pulling out). 

“Just floor it,” Soonyoung suggested mildly. “Sorry, ladies.”

Wonwoo gave him an incredulous look. “Floor it? Like into their car?”

Soonyoung nodded, pouting and squinting at the van like he was drunk. “Yep.”

“And that’s why your dad isn’t giving you a chance to get your license,” Wonwoo sighed, setting the car in reverse and checking behind them, backing out very slowly.

Soonyoung shrugged. “He’s a poopoo.”

“I told you to only drink the juice boxes. The punch was definitely laced.”

“Well, too late now.”

“Buckle up,” Wonwoo reminded, still moving at two miles an hour, scanning through the rearview.

“I’m too tired. It’s fine.”

Wonwoo rolled his eyes, having pulled the car out of the spot and now twisting the wheel around a few times to set the car moving parallel to the lane. “You need to have your belt on.”

Soonyoung slouched further in his seat in reply.

They stopped at the sign, allowing the cars from the schools’ three adjacent lots a three-way stop and go.

Wonwoo sighed and reached over, putting Soonyoung’s belt on for him. “Thank me later.”

“Yeah, whatever.” Soonyoung closed his eyes. “You drive really nicely, Jeon.”

“I hate it when you call me that.”

“I know.”

They drove out of the school parking, stopping at the light at the front of the school. Wonwoo let his hands fall from the wheel, knowing this light took about five minutes to clear. “Thanks, by the way.”

“For what?” Soonyoung murmured, sounding like he was about to fall asleep.

“For taking me aside before I lost control.” Wonwoo shrugged. “It was a nice thing to do.”

“That’s what friends do,” Soonyoung mumbled, his eyes still closed. “And don’t start with your ‘not friends’ monologue.”

“I wasn’t going to,” Wonwoo replied, his voice soft. “Too tired.”

A drowsy hum in reply, and the car settled into a peaceful quiet.

Wonwoo glanced at the car that’d stopped next to theirs, receiving a surprise. Mingyu was in the driver’s seat, smiling and laughing with Ryujin. 

Mingyu caught sight of Wonwoo past Ryujin, his gaze hardening slightly at the sight of Wonwoo with someone else in his passenger seat.

Wonwoo looked away.

The light turned green, thankfully, and Wonwoo slowly accelerated across the street and into his old neighborhood. 

This neighborhood was populated with students returning from the dance, and the cars were backing up the streets of the community. Wonwoo lowered his speed, glancing over at Soonyoung to comment about seeing Mingyu driving-

Soonyoung was fast asleep, curled up in Wonwoo’s passenger seat like he was on a five hour road trip.

Wonwoo blinked, turning his attention back to the cars in front, signaling a person to turn into their driveway before continuing to drive, mindful of his speed now not only because of the cars but because he didn’t want to wake Soonyoung up.

By the time they pulled up to Soonyoung’s house, the latter seemed to have drifted off peacefully, and Wonwoo parked in the driveway, feeling it’d be rude to wake Soonyoung up so quickly.

Wonwoo glanced over at the shorter boy, admiring how easily Soonyoung had tucked himself into the seat- Wonwoo’s long legs would never allow him to do that. Soonyoung’s hair, which’d been done so carefully before the dance, now spilled over his forehead in tousled locks. The house’s porchlight had cast its warm glow onto Soonyoung’s delicate features, illuminating the curve of his round nose and the length of his eyelashes, the dips and shadows of his countenance looking like a piece of artwork. 

Wonwoo laughed softly at the pout Soonyoung still had on his lips even as he slept, the sound stirring the latter awake.

“Won?” Soonyoung mumbled sleepily, raising his head and looking around, blinking in confusion. “We’re home?”

“You fell asleep,” Wonwoo said helpfully. “Should I walk you to your door?”

“No, I can…” Soonyoung yawned, stretching as he gathered his things. “Thanks for the ride.”

“Yeah, no problem.” Wonwoo leaned back into his seat as Soonyoung unbuckled himself, swinging open the passenger door and climbing out. “Hey, we’ve got a meeting tomorrow, remember? Government.”

“Oh, right…” Soonyoung leaned against the car door, still looking adorably out of it. 

Not adorably.

“Why don’t we meet at noon instead of ten?” Wonwoo suggested. “I don’t think anyone is going to wake up that early. Lunch, maybe? I’m totally broke right now so no going out, but we could have the meeting at someone’s house.”

“Yeah, Junhui’s been talking about his mom’s cooking since forever. He could host, he invited us all over anyway.”

“Alright. I’ll text the others.”

“Okay. ’Night, Won,” Soonyoung yawned.

“Yeah. See you tomorrow.”

Soonyoung nodded, shutting the car door and giving Wonwoo a sleepy smile before traipsing up the steps to his house. 

Wonwoo waited in the driveway as his parents had taught him- always make sure your friends get inside their house safely before driving off. He watched Mrs. Kwon open the door and hug her son as she always did, peering outside and giving Wonwoo a grateful wave, which he returned before backing out of the driveway and heading home.

•

Seungcheol waited on Jeonghan’s doorstep, unsmiling as the door swung open and Jeonghan appeared.

“Cheol,” Jeonghan said, looking apologetic.

“Where did he take you?” Seungcheol asked softly.

Jeonghan glanced back into his house, stepping outside and shutting the door to give them some privacy. “What?”

“You know who I’m talking about.”

“Joshua?” Jeonghan seemed more hesitant under Seungcheol’s piercing stare. “I was just feeling really cramped up in there. We went for a ride, is all.”

“You didn’t text me.”

“I don’t have to tell you where I go,” Jeonghan replied defiantly.

“Excuse me? Did he tell you to say that?”

“No. It’s my opinion.”

“When you’re at a dance with your date- who is, may I add, your boyfriend- and you decide to ditch with some other boy who has obvious interest in you, and drive off in his car to god knows where, you should let at least  _ someone _ know. Don’t you think? For your own safety?”

“I can protect myself,” Jeonghan snapped. “And Joshua would never do something like that to me. For your information, we went on a simple drive, just talked a bit. No drugs, no alcohol, none of the whole ‘Joshua-forcing-himself-onto-Seungcheol’s-defenseless-boyfriend’ agenda that you’re pushing.”

Seungcheol closed his eyes, taking a deep breath. “Just tell me what made you think it was acceptable to leave like that with no notice.”

“I wasn’t eloping or something. Am I not allowed to hang out with a friend?”

Seungcheol gave Jeonghan an incredulous look. “You know things are not that simple with Joshua. You’d be an idiot to not know that. Don’t act like this. It isn’t you.”

“Then I don’t know what you’re talking about, because I’ve always been like this,” Jeonghan said. “You said you liked that sassy part of me.”

“Not when I’m worried for you.”

“Well, you don’t have to be. I know what I’m doing.”

“That’s what I’m worried about,” Seungcheol sighed, his voice low. “He’s making you think that you’re the one in control when he really is.”

Jeonghan leaned against the doorway, looking not at all convinced.

“I was really scared, Han,” Seungcheol said softly. “I come back from the bathroom and he’s gone and so are you, none of the others said they saw you. I was genuinely concerned. You’re so small and it’d’ve been easy for him to just grab you and drag you outside against your will.”

“Well, he didn’t try to kidnap me. He invited me and I said yes.”

“I went out to the parking lot and his car was gone, that’s how I knew you two left. If it wasn’t for your phone location showing that you were just driving around close by, I would’ve called the police. It’s not even about the jealousy.”

“I don’t know about that,” Jeonghan said bitterly. “It just feels like you don’t like him and are trying to pin anything on him.”

“You know that’s not it.”

“Certainly feels like it. You looked up my location, for heaven’s sakes.”

“Well, we shared our locations with each other for that reason, for safety. We made that rule with mutual understanding. Please don’t paint me as the manipulative person here. I wasn’t trying to stalk you. I was making sure you were okay. I think it’s great you think he’s a safe person- okay? That’s just part of your nature. You want to believe the best of someone. I get it. But you have to realize that not everyone is as innocent as you think they are.”

“Okay,” Jeonghan cut him off. “I was with him, I ditched you, I did something irresponsible and inappropriate. I was so foolish and stupid and gullible. How’s that? Does that satisfy you?”

“That’s not what-” Seungcheol sighed. “I’m not trying to extract some sort of confession from you!”

“Then what do you want from me?”

“I just want you to understand and admit that Joshua isn’t the safest person for you and he has other intentions!”

“Intentions like what?” Jeonghan yelled.

“Intentions like getting with you!”

It was silent for a few seconds, both of them breathing heavily, tears sparkling in Seungcheol’s eyes, cold frustration burning in Jeonghan’s. 

“You said we weren’t going to argue tonight,” Jeonghan accused.

“Well, I didn’t expect you to pull something like this.” Seungcheol replied.

Jeonghan bit his lip. “I’m sorry.”

“I wish you’d just told me before you left, at the very least,” Seungcheol said softly. 

Jeonghan shook his head. “I didn’t think it would make you  _ this _ angry.”

“But you knew it’d upset me, right?”

Jeonghan’s silence was enough answer.

“Is it me?” Seungcheol asked, his voice soft and delicate. “Are you unhappy with me? I want to work this out, Han. If it’s something I did that’s making you act like this-”

“It’s not you,” Jeonghan blurted out. “I can’t explain.”

Seungcheol deflated, watching Jeonghan through sad eyes.

“I’m sorry,” Jeonghan repeated. “I won’t- leave like that again.”

Seungcheol shook his head. “I don’t know. I just… I’m just… tonight made me think a lot.”

“Wait,” Jeonghan said hurriedly.

“Cheol, no-”

“Just a break. Let’s take a break,” Seungcheol said wearily. “For a week.”

Jeonghan looked relieved, glad it wasn’t as bad as the blow he’d been expecting to be dealt. Yet he still sounded miserable when he asked, “A week?”

Seungcheol shook his head again. “I just need space to think. That’s all. I guess you do too.”

“You’re overreacting,” Jeonghan pleaded weakly. 

“If I’m overreacting, then I have no words for what happened tonight,” Seungcheol said quietly.

Jeonghan’s silence served as answer yet again.

“I’ll see you in a week,” Seungcheol gave Jeonghan a tired smile, too much pain in his eyes as he turned and left.

Seungcheol barely waited until he was inside his car to break down, letting tears consume him as he rested his head against the steering wheel, wondering why everything was going so wrong.

•

“I had a really fun time tonight,” Ryujin said shyly, clasping her hands in her lap as they pulled up to her house.

“Yeah, me too,” Mingyu smiled, but it was strained. Luckily she didn’t know him well enough to notice.

“I think we should hang out more often,” Ryujin added.

“Yeah, definitely.” Mingyu didn’t hate her. She was a nice girl, and he was sure a lot of people thought she was pretty. But she just wasn’t for him. Maybe it’d take time. He didn’t know enough about feelings and crushes to be sure.

“Um…” Ryujin blushed, staring down at her hands. “So… are we…”

“A thing?” Mingyu completed for her.

“Yeah.”

Maybe she’d be the thing to help him out of this whole mess his life was in right now. Who knew? He wouldn’t if he didn’t try.

“I think so,” Mingyu said, deciding to give her a chance.

“Oh,” Ryujin flushed darker. “Okay. Cool.”

“Yeah,” Mingyu said, and pinked despite himself. “Um, I’ve got a game tomorrow morning. If you’d like to come.”

“Sounds fun,” Ryujin nodded. “Yeah, I’ll be there. Should I bring my friends, or…?”

“We can go out for lunch or something after,” Mingyu said casually. “It can be a date. Our first date, I guess.”

“Nice,” Ryujin grinned. “See you tomorrow, then.”

“Bye,” Mingyu said, and blushed a little more when she leaned over, pecking his cheek before slipping out of his car. He couldn’t help it. He didn’t like her, but she really was pretty.

Yet in the mere few streets it took to get home, he already knew it didn’t feel right. That he was just trying to find a replacement for the one person he really wanted but would never have.

He’d try to keep up this ruse for as long as possible, then. If only to make Ryujin happy.

After all, that was all he was good for, wasn’t it?

•

Wonwoo stepped into his house, surprised to find the living room light still on. His father was very strict about sleep, and usually retired by ten, his mother following shortly at eleven. Yet it was nearly midnight and she was still up, sitting in her favorite armchair and reading some classic like she always did, like she’d taught Wonwoo to.

“How was the dance?” his mother asked, raising her eyes from her novel.

“Good,” Wonwoo said, sitting down next to her. There wasn’t much space in the armchair, but Wonwoo was lean and his mother was a small woman, so it was alright. He’d been sitting here with her since before he could remember, every time with a different book. That’s how he’d fallen in love with knowledge, after all.

“Jeongguk looked like he had fun?”

“Yeah, I think so. He was with his friends and they all got picked up by Mrs. Kim, so they’re at Taehyung’s now.”

Mrs. Jeon lightly combed through Wonwoo’s ruffled hair. “Alright. Did you fix things with Mingyu?”

Wonwoo shook his head, feeling rather miserable. He did not need another reminder of that.

“There’s still plenty of time,” his mother soothed. “Don’t worry about it.”

Wonwoo found himself slumping onto his mother’s shoulder, looking at the book. “What are you reading?”

“Go and have a shower and come back down,” his mother said, teasingly flipping the book shut and covering the title. 

Wonwoo sat up, frowning. “I’m not five. You can’t bait me like that.”

“Well, this is one of your favorites,” his mother smiled, waving the book slightly. 

Wonwoo grumbled, yet went upstairs and did as she asked, glad for the silence of the house and the lack of the younger brother that seemed to always be rushing into the bathroom whenever he was in it.

Thirty minutes later he was snuggled next to his mother again, this time in his pajamas, a blanket over them. It felt just like old days, back when he used to be happy and free and open with his parents. 

“Aren’t you tired, mom?” Wonwoo asked, making himself comfortable and hugging a pillow to his chest.

“A bit, but I love reading with my little reader,” his mother smiled, opening the book again.

“Pride and Prejudice,” Wonwoo said, recognizing the English classic from just a single sentence as soon as his eyes landed on the page. It took a few seconds to adjust to the higher-level English that he often didn’t read; and he felt so immensely thankful for his mother encouraging him to read in other languages since he was little- he didn’t struggle in English or Japanese lessons at school like his friends did, and despite a little accent when he switched over, he was definitely fluent to a level that surprised his teachers.

“Spot on. Do you want the translated version or is English fine?”

“Absolute not. Original.”

“Want me to read to you?”

“If you don’t tell Jeongguk later. He has enough to tease me about.”

His mother laughed, but didn’t begin.

Wonwoo glanced up at her, finding her looking down at him, a fond gaze in her eyes. 

“What?” Wonwoo prodded. “Read. You said you’d read.”

“Is there anything you want to talk about, honey?”

“No,” Wonwoo said firmly.

“I heard you crying today after school, in your room.”

“What?” Wonwoo flushed. He could’ve sworn nobody had heard. “That wasn’t me. It was Jeongguk.”

“It couldn’t have been, because Jeongguk arrived home beaming today and immediately rushed down to the basement to play those video games. Not to mention that every time he cries he runs right downstairs to get comforted.”

“Fine, it was me,” Wonwoo said, his face coloring further. He could lie to Jeongguk and his father, but never with his mom. She always saw right through. “I’m fine now. I was just stressed.”

“Are you sure you don’t want to talk about it?”

Wonwoo paused. And then, 

“No, I’m okay, thank you.”

His mother seemed slightly disappointed, yet returned her attention to the book. Wonwoo suddenly felt regretful, as if maybe he’d actually feel the courage to open up and spill his thoughts if only she’d asked him once more.

“Alright. But you can talk to me whenever you want, alright Won?”

“Okay.”

“You promise you’ll talk to me if you need anything?”

“Yes. I promise.”

A few moments of silence, and then his mother cleared her throat, beginning to read. “‘We all love to instruct, though we can teach only what is not worth knowing. Forgive me; and if you persist in indifference, do not make me your confidante…’”

And Wonwoo couldn’t help but wonder if those words had been directed right at him as he sank into sleep to the sound of his mother’s gentle soft voice, content for the time being, here where it was warm and sheltered and familiar, far away from the trials and and tribulations that seemed to haunt him to no end wherever he tried to escape to. The drama and sadness and regret that he couldn’t seem to get rid of, chasing him into a night of hopefully more restful sleep than the last, and the last, and the last. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hi!!  
> i’m so sorry i took a hiatus for a month because i had a lot of work for school and test prep!! 
> 
> anyways here’s the dance chapter <3 it’s been a while so maybe it’s a good idea to go back a few chapters to catch up!!
> 
> ALSO SIDE NOTE
> 
> if you want to see what i’ve worked on in the last month, here’s my svt harry potter christmas fic!! made it for the meanielarries lmao <3 please give it a read!! it’s ot13 and really sweet 
> 
> https://archiveofourown.org/works/28161207/chapters/69004590
> 
> thanks for reading as always 🥺 your comments/kudos are always my motivation and even if i can’t reply to you all just know i read everything and your support makes me feel so happy!! 
> 
> tell someone you love them today, i love all of you <3  
> -mingyuwu


	29. 27. campaign sessions and cheering trios

“Now where is Soonyoung?” Jihoon asked impatiently, leaning back in his seat.

They were in Junhui’s backyard, the mid-October afternoon warm despite the gusts of wind. The table in front of them was laden with Chinese delicacies, most ones that Wonwoo couldn’t name but all mouthwateringly succulent. They’d barely made their way through appetizers and Wonwoo was already wishing his stomach was larger, and was very thankful that the waist of his pants had a generous leeway around his slim torso.

“He said he’d be here by noon,” Wonwoo sighed, picking something up with his chopsticks and delivering it to his mouth, nearly sinking to the floor with the taste that exploded on his tongue. “Soonyoung’s never on time.”

Junhui beamed as his mother came out, carrying yet more dishes. “More food for us, then!”

Mrs. Wen laid the food down on the table, cramming it in the few empty spaces left. “You… it’s good?” she asked Wonwoo and Jihoon, gesticulating to make up for the language barrier.

“Ma’s staying at home a lot, not much Korean,” Junhui explained. “She is learning.” He translated the same into Mandarin to his mother, who nodded in agreement. 

“It’s all really nice,” Jihoon smiled happily, bowing repeatedly in his seat. Wonwoo, his mouth stuffed with food, made a mortified sound at the idea of not properly thanking Junhui’s talented mother, giving her an emphatic thumbs up instead. 

To his relief, she merely laughed, the sound light and so much like Junhui’s. Mrs. Wen comfortably patted Wonwoo’s shoulder. “Good. Always… welcome.”

“She means that you can come anytime, for food,” Junhui said. “Someone’s always eating here.”

“Tell her that the food’s excellent,” Wonwoo said after swallowing. “It’s really spectacular.”

Junhui relayed the same to his mother, who only smiled wider. “Thank you!” She asked Junhui something, to which the boy shook his head, explaining something and pointing at Wonwoo and Jihoon. Mrs. Wen nodded in understanding, smiling and thanking them once more before going back inside.

“She asked where Minghao is,” Junhui said. “She met him before and liked him a lot.”

“Because he’s Chinese?” Jihoon grinned.

Junhui grinned right back. “Probably. But she thinks you guys are nice too. She’s happy I have friends.”

Wonwoo nearly said what always was on the tip of his tongue when these people started going off with the word friends, but he held back, patiently waiting to see if Junhui would elaborate.

“Did not have many friends,” Junhui said, his speech softer. “At home.” He stirred his chopsticks around in his bowl. “Was always busy. Not enough time for friends. And the other kids didn’t like me.”

Jihoon’s gaze was gentle, and Wonwoo felt a strange sense of compassion for Junhui in the moment. 

“But it’s okay,” Junhui beamed, returning to usual like a light had flickered on. “I have you now, right? All of you.”

Wonwoo found himself nodding, Jihoon smiling as he assured Junhui that they were always here for him.

Footsteps from the small wraparound porchway, and Soonyoung appeared on the deck, panting slightly. “Sorry… I kinda overslept?”

“Until noon?” Jihoon inquired, but the words were lost on Wonwoo as he was hit with the absolutely beautiful work that was Kwon Soonyoung on this fine Saturday afternoon.

Soonyoung was wearing a polo tee in a shade of sunshine yellow that really only he could pull off, the two buttons open to reveal his collarbones and delicately tanned skin, a refreshing change from the constant promotion of milky skin tones. He wore fitted jeans that tapered all the way down his sculpted legs, the hem meeting seamlessly with the black heavy timberlands that wrapped around his feet up to his slim ankles. The two inch sole of the boots made Soonyoung’s figure look even prettier as the wind blew against him, flattening his shirt to his form and allowing them all a glimpsed outline of the toned body that lay underneath. Soonyoung’s hair was damp and ruffled from the shower, the bleached curls blowing in the breeze, and his face was still slightly puffy, as if he’d slept with his cheek pressed to his pillow all night and woken up pouting like a little baby duckling. 

Wonwoo blinked and reminded himself that it was too dangerous to get liberal with his creative mind. Waxing pretty poetic was not good when it was verse inspired by your enemy’s killer good looks. 

“Yes, some people do sleep until noon,” Soonyoung huffed, his shoes clicking against the deck as he came to take the only empty seat left, next to Wonwoo, who was still out of it as he admired the way Soonyoung’s flexible dancer form spread itself upon the chair, Soonyoung bringing up his legs to sit criss-cross as he adjusted his chair closer to the table, innocent eyes widening at the sight of so much delicious food right in front of him. “Oh my god, this looks amazing. Are we allowed to eat?”

“Yes, of course!” Junhui smiled.

“Excellent,” Soonyoung said, and Wonwoo was thankfully slapped out of dreamy euphoria as Soonyoung began piling food into a bowl like a feral animal that hadn’t been fed for a week. “So, what were we talking about? I’ve got to go meet Seokmin and Seungkwan later afternoon for a secret agenda, so let’s make this snappy, aye? Did I miss anything?”

“Nothing yet,” Wonwoo forced out, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose and forcing himself to look away from Soonyoung’s alluring body. “We were waiting for you.”

“Well, here I am,” Soonyoung said, grinning at Wonwoo. “Gosh, this food- freaking delicious. I need to eat like this every day. Junnie, you’re the luckiest.”

Junhui glowed under the compliment. “I’ll tell my mom you liked it.”

“Let’s get to talking,” Jihoon said, putting his chopsticks down and pulling a bunch of notes out of his bag. “As the debate prep analyst, I’ve gotten everything pretty much planned out for tomorrow. I’ve scripted out standard replies you should consider, seeing as we’ve discussed your position regarding pretty much every aspect of school life we could think of.”

“Thanks a million,” Wonwoo said, relieved, as he accepted the notepad from Jihoon. He’d drafted out a lot of things on his own, but he was better at reading than writing out things on his own. Jihoon had exceeded Wonwoo’s expectations, just as he’d hoped for. “Junhui, do we have those banners ready?”

Junhui nodded excitedly, getting up and heading into his house, coming back a few minutes later with a bundle of fabric paper in his arms, dumping it gently onto the deck and spreading the banners out. “How is it?”

Wonwoo surveyed the shimmery silver paint on the black backdrop, Junhui’s careful printing setting off the entire banner beautifully. In large, bold English lettering read the words ‘17 CARAT’ and underneath, cursive spelled out ‘Won For The Win’. “I like it. Good for starting off our campaign.”

“Still working,” Junhui explained, pulling up different designs on his phone. “Many ideas. They use computer, I use paint. More… human? New things coming soon.”

“He appealed to natural creativity and imagination rather than Hyunjin’s team’s use of printed posters,” Jihoon mused, seemingly impressed. “Nice, Junhui. Smart move.”

Soonyoung leaned back in his seat, temporarily sated of his appetite as he surveyed the banners. “They’re so cute. I love them.” He glanced at the others. “So, what’s the plan? How’s tomorrow going to go? And what about the posters? When are we going to hang them?”

Wonwoo smiled back at him. “Thought you’d never ask.”

“He’s got something on mind, hasn’t he?” Jihoon smirked.

“While I’m up there answering questions against Hyunjin and the whole school’s watching,” Wonwoo said, sitting back down as Junhui rolled up the banners and rejoined them, “Soonyoung’s going to head out of the assembly.”

“But they never let people leave,” Soonyoung grumbled.

“That’s why you’re going to use those marvelous acting skills you’ve got and feign immediate need of the restroom,” Wonwoo grinned. “They can’t stop you from leaving then.”

“Won,” Soonyoung moaned. “Come on, really?”

“And as soon as you’re out of there, you head to your locker- where Junhui will put the posters in passing period right before the assembly- and go around the empty school and put them up by the end of the day bell, at which point everyone’s going to leave the auditorium and be met with the whole school strung up in my banners,” Wonwoo grinned.

“Angry teachers?” Junhui pointed out.

“Well, technically, there’s no rule for when promotional banners can go up. Nobody can get angry at us,” Jihoon smiled slowly, having caught onto Wonwoo’s plan. “Ah, Wonwoo’s going all psychological on them with the positive association. The assembly’s over, school day’s over, and the first thing they see when they leave is Wonwoo’s posters.”

Wonwoo snapped his fingers, pointing at Jihoon. He usually hated any sort of agreement with the older boy, but he’d go along for today. He was in such a good mood. “Exactly.”

Soonyoung leaned further back in his seat, crossing an ankle over his knee and drumming his fingers lightly against his leather-boot covered inner ankle, the other hand resting right over the crotch of his jeans. Wonwoo didn’t dare look at him after one glance in his direction. That skin-fitting denim should definitely be illegal, especially when sitting like that. Soonyoung’s hand wasn’t covering much. 

“So Soonyoung’s the sheep here?” Jihoon asked, in reference to Soonyoung’s planned acting to take place in twenty four hours. 

“Sheep,” Junhui laughed, busying himself with his chopsticks and deviating from conversation.

“Well, it’s true,” Soonyoung sighed dramatically. “Should I fake diarrhea for the teachers?”

“No need to go that far,” Wonwoo assured hurriedly. “No explosive feces. Not at all necessary. Just… anything that would make them cruel for not letting you go.”

“Alright.” Soonyoung winked at Wonwoo. “I’ll do my best, sweetheart.”

“That’s absolutely gross,” Wonwoo said, wrinkling his nose. “Please. Be a little professional.”

“You didn’t like ‘Jeon’! I’m trying to accommodate.”

“Then what makes you think I’ll like  _ ‘sweetheart’ _ ?!”

Soonyoung cackled happily, shrugging like the devil as he picked up his bowl again. Seething exasperatedly, Wonwoo returned to his own food, not missing Jihoon’s little snicker. 

“Hyunjin’s definitely going for popularity,” Jihoon said, perusing his notes again. “He’ll try and promote social life and creating more events and parties. We’re going for education  _ and _ socialization. Try and remember that. You may not be personally passionate about partying, but you have to realize that it’s a deal breaker for a lot of students. You need to be as positive about it as you’re going to be for course curriculum. We’re not trying to turn the whole school year into one big festivity like Hyunjin is, we’re not going for a party animal style. We’re going to advocate more for club opportunities, smaller social gatherings, and more student-organized parties, dances, and even parades. And chances are, a lot of students have complaints with curriculum and how classes are taught at Pledis. You showing that you can listen to that and cater to them might sway them to your side more than Hyunjin’s more-social-life offers.”

Wonwoo nodded. “Anything else?”

“He’s a hell-raiser with a crowd,” Soonyoung spoke up, and Wonwoo glanced over to find Soonyoung mindlessly fingering his collar, tugging at the neckline as he spoke, his thumb rubbing against the tiny dip between his prominent collarbones. Wonwoo gulped and maintained his vision on the table in front of them, pretending to be in deep thought instead of avoiding looking at Soonyoung and every dangerous part of him. He wasn’t sure what was wrong with him today. Maybe it was the Chinese food, because Kwon Soonyoung was definitely not handsome and certainly not Wonwoo’s type. “Hyunjin’s one of the most popular students at Pledis, and a lot of students already love him. He’s my co-president on Varsity Hyacinth, and is definitely as favored by the student body as I am. I’m not sure if that’s a good or bad thing, because people usually love our whole dance team and now me being on one side and him on the other is going to create some waves.”

“Things are okay between you guys, right?” Jihoon asked.

Soonyoung made a face. “Yeah, of course. Hyun’s real chill, something like this isn’t going to take over our years long friendship. I think I’ve been friends with him longer than with anyone at this table- maybe not Won, but everyone else. He’s sweet and nice, respectful and fair. He’s not gonna hold a grudge against me when we win.”

“When we win,” Junhui smiled, having only caught the end of the sentence. “Confidence!”

“Exactly,” Soonyoung nodded. “Won, you look a little out of it. You okay?”

Wonwoo started, looking around at the others. He’d been staring at Soonyoung wordlessly after the older had easily stated that their friendship was years long- as if Soonyoung had never actually considered Wonwoo as an enemy deep down. Despite everything that Soonyoung had told everyone for the last three years, he’d just let it slip out that he never had truly felt like that. “Yeah, I’m okay. Sorry. Just in my thoughts. What were we talking about?”

“How we’re going to win,” Junhui cheeped.

Jihoon grinned. “Yeah. I think we got this first debate in the bag, to be honest. Seriously.”

Wonwoo smiled nervously. “Thanks, guys… I seriously don’t think I could do it with you three.”

“So he doesn’t hate Jihoon anymore,” Soonyoung joked, earning a light kick under the table from Wonwoo. “Ow! Hey, that’s mean.”

“Watch it or you’ll be next,” Wonwoo joked, Soonyoung forgetting that forever-preserved boundary around Wonwoo’s little personal space bubble and reaching over to ruffle his hair.

The table went dead silent, even Junhui picking up on the thickness in the air as Wonwoo stared at Soonyoung through the fringe now dropping into his eyes.

Soonyoung was frozen for a second, then burst into a grin, finger-gunning Wonwoo. “Love you too, sweetheart.”

Wonwoo choked. “You should be so glad I’m feeling good today.”

Jihoon’s innocent laugh broke the tension, and soon Junhui was giggling too, bringing a smile to Wonwoo’s face as he glanced over at the handsome Chinese boy bent double with his peals of laughter, Junhui set off with anything and everything as usual. 

Wonwoo pretended to be irritated, fluffing up his hair and fixing it, sending a glare in Soonyoung’s direction yet faltering into a smile halfway, completely failing. After all, you couldn’t glare at someone who looked that good.

_ Stop it, Jeon.  _

Perhaps that’s why he hated Soonyoung using that name- the last name Wonwoo used to chide himself mentally whenever his thoughts were straying into the wrong lanes. 

And the entire rest of the three hours they were there, poring over Jihoon’s notes as they sipped on milk tea with grass jelly, Wonwoo tried his best not to look at Soonyoung, instead watching Jihoon scribble on the notepad and Junhui’s bright smile as the youngest kept chittering on and on, sometimes switching into Mandarin when he got excited, nobody bothering to tell him because Junhui was so adorable when he didn’t notice. Wonwoo hated using the word adorable, but he couldn’t find another word for the sweet boy. So he admired Junhui’s beaming countenance and Jihoon’s hardworking discipline and tried his utmost to cut out Kwon Soonyoung and his average face and and bold boots and ruffled hair and undone collar and tight denim jeans. 

Whatever.

•

“Chan?” 

Chan glanced up from his books, finding his mother at the door. “Yes?”

“Hansol’s at the door with Minghao, they’re asking for you.”

“Can I go out, then?”

His mother pursed her lips, surveying how hard he’d been working (taking a nice nap on his books before he’d heard her coming down the tiny hall to his room- he’d spent all night awake at the sleepover). “You’ve spent yesterday evening at the dance and all night over at Taehyung’s with Hansol and your other friends. Do you think it’s a smart choice?”

Chan pouted. “Ma! I’m just a freshman, let me have some fun. It’s just for this one day. It’s Saturday, come on. Hansol’s parents aren’t making him study today, seeing as he’s at the door!”

“Well, we’re not Hansol’s parents and you’re not Hansol.”

“Mother…”

She sighed. “One hour. Be back here by noon for lunch.”   
“Thank you,” Chan sighed with relief, standing up and heading past her and down the hall. 

“Don’t think I don’t know you were sleeping before I came in!” his mother called after him. “You better start taking your studies seriously, Lee Jungchan!”

Chan rolled his eyes at the use of his full name that rarely made an occurrence, therefore disregarding it as he slipped on his shoes and met his best friends by the door. “Hey. Um- wow. Hao hyung, what  _ is _ that?”

Minghao shook his head, barely able to with the scarf wrapped warmly around his neck, complementing the wooly jacket he was wearing. “Don’t even ask. October’s the early flu season, remember?”

“Mrs. Xu just loves her son a lot,” Hansol cooed jokingly as they headed out, Chan grabbing the house key and shutting the door behind himself, the trio making their way down the apartment corridor to the elevator.

“Shut up, I can barely walk in this thing,” Minghao grumbled. “You’re one to talk. Your parents seem like they don’t love you at all, seeing as how they’ve let you just come out in the middle of fall wearing short sleeves.”

Chan laughed, fitting himself snugly between the older two as they walked out of their apartment building and right into Seoul’s busy streets. “Where are we going? The usual?”

“I wanted to hang out,” Hansol affirmed, kicking at a pebble as they crossed the road and into another city block. “I have a big announcement to make.”

“He won’t tell me what it is either,” Minghao sighed. “If this is a waste of my time, Sol, you’re dead.”

“You’ll definitely think it is.” Hansol stuck his tongue out at Minghao, looping his arm through Chan’s. “Chan’ll support me, right Channie?”

“He’s too busy locked up in his room and studying,” Minghao snickered.

Chan groaned. “Tell me about it. I barely got home two hours ago today from the sleepover and they instantly sent me to study. I pulled a intensely-concentrating-on-books and a must-put-face-close-to-books to get some shuteye.” A sigh of lament. “I wish my parents were open minded like Tae’s. His are letting him pursue his dreams of saxophone. That’s so cool.”

“You should do something like that, Channie,” Hansol chimed in. “Performing arts is just your thing. Everyone at school knows it.”

Chan sighed. “Everyone but my parents know it. Trust me, it’s my dream. I’m barely fourteen, I’m a good dancer and vocalist, and I’m generally smarter than most people my age so I could balance school and training. I wish a company wanted me.”

“Scouts are everywhere,” Minghao reassured. “You know, people from entertainment companies that might cast you. If you get calling cards from places, maybe your parents would consider it.”

Chan let out a breathy laugh. “They would never even try considering. They want me to become a-” Chan wrinkled up his face. “A software technician. Just like my dad, and his dad. Let me ask you, how good is a software technician if my dad’s only able to provide this much for us? A lousy apartment with ice cold water and faulty lighting?”

“Be grateful,” Hansol chided.

“I am being grateful. Just sometimes my gratefulness gets clouded over with absolute frustration for this lousy situation.”

They entered the tiny cafe that they frequented regularly, greeting the familiar owner as they stepped inside. 

“I’ll pay,” Chan volunteered, heading over to the counter and purchasing three small banana milk cartons, carrying them back over and sliding them across the table to the other two as he slipped into the empty bench across them. 

“So, what’re we here for?” Minghao asked Hansol, opening the foil wrapper of the banana milk.

“Guys,” Hansol said dramatically. “I am in love.”

“Is it Jeongguk?” Chan teased. “Finally. My one true pair dream is coming true.”

Hansol sighed. “Let it go already. It was one kiss, and it was a dare!  _ And _ it was a year ago!”

Minghao rolled his eyes. “Seriously, Chan, this is why they don’t like having you at their sleepover parties. Did anything extravagant happen last night?”

“No, sadly.” Chan frowned. “And they do love having me at their sleepovers! Right, Sol? You guys love me.”

Hansol stuck out his tongue at Chan. “Most of the time. And just because you’re in our grade doesn’t mean you get to drop honorifics with us, you toddler.”

“It’s one year of difference! And you act way more like a child than I do.”

“So, we’re never going to hear who Hansol is in love with,” Minghao stage-whispered as he raised the carton to his lips.

“I was  _ going _ to tell you before Chan interrupted,” Hansol drew out.

“Well, speak!”

“Ryujin noona,” Hansol said solemnly.

It was quiet for a few seconds, then Minghao burst into laughter. “Mingyu’s date last night?”

“Hey!” Hansol glared at him. “She’s really nice and pretty and she plays soccer like me!”

“Yeah, she does, and she’s going to Mingyu’s game today to support him. Gyu texted me about it this morning.” Minghao gave Hansol a double take. “Hold on. The game today. You have a game. Why are you here and not at the game?”

“It’s a varsity game, not JV.”

“Poor you,” Chan snickered.

“Next year.” Hansol smirked self-assuredly. “They just can’t put me on varsity because I’m a freshman and it would hurt other people’s feelings. You know. I’m just  _ too _ young.”

“Mingyu hyung got put onto varsity for the spring season last year, after they put him in JV for the fall one and realized he was way better than everyone else there,” Chan contradicted. 

“Anyways,” Hansol said loudly. “I am completely in love with Ryujin after seeing her last night.” He nodded proudly, taking a sip of his milk.

Chan rolled his eyes. “You’re really a dumbass, hyung.”

“The honorific is pointless if you tack it on after an insult,” Minghao snickered.

“Oh, stop, you always try to avoid using them because ‘we don’t have them in China’,” Chan replied sarcastically. “Anyway, Sol hyung, Ryujin is a big no go. She’s really into Mingyu and they’re together now.”

“What? They’re together?” Hansol gasped. “What do you mean?”

“Last night, you and Taehyung fell asleep after Twister, and me and Jimin and Jeongguk were prank calling people on Jeongguk’s contacts. When we called Mingyu hyung we realized that he’s been pretty fucked over recently so instead of messing with him we just talked to him about life. And he told us that he officially asked Ryujin noona out after the dance and they’re a thing now.” Chan intertwined his pinkies, squeezing them together in demonstration. “A couple.”

Hansol pouted miserably, slumping in his seat and putting his lips to the top of the tiny milk carton, mindlessly chewing on the plastic rim. “Let’s break them up.”

“Stop chewing that, the plastic bits will go into your body and it’s not good for you,” Minghao said exasperatedly. “And no, we’re not breaking them up. Didn’t you listen to Chan? Mingyu’s had a rough time recently. Ryujin could probably make him feel better.”

“But he doesn’t like her,” Hansol grumped.

“But he’s not going to break up with her because he’s too nice,” Chan reminded him.

“But I like her.”

“Well, you’re not going to break them up because  _ you’re _ nice,” Minghao said firmly. “Let them be happy. I heard they kissed last night, if Mingyu wasn’t set on giving her a chance he probably wouldn’t have kissed her. Give them space.”

“Speaking of letting people be happy,” Hansol gasped as he sat up. “I was talking to Seungkwan this morning to check in, he wasn’t at the sleepover last night because he got sick. But he said that he saw you dancing with Jun hyung?”

Minghao turned red. “What?”

“Yeah! I was doing karaoke with the others, but he was in the gym and he said he saw you two!”

“What?” Chan grinned. “Seriously?”

“Yeah,” Hansol said, both of them turning to look at Minghao expectantly. “Well?”

“Is it wrong to dance with a friend?” Minghao spluttered, receiving two exasperated looks. “Hey. You two are not allowed to make that face at me.”

“Mhm,” Chan said, narrowing his eyes. “Come on, Hao hyung, tell us what it was like.”

“I mean- it was-” Minghao blushed. “Seriously, why are you guys being like this? It’s weird…”

“We’re just teasing,” Hansol said, shooting Chan a look that meant  _ careful _ . They didn’t want to scare Minghao away from talking about Junhui. They were aiming to make him feel a bit more comfortable about the whole topic. “Seungkwan just said that it seemed like you two were having a good time. We’re happy for you.”

Minghao shrugged, taking another sip of his drink. “It wasn’t anything special. Junhui’s an absolute lunatic on sugar, I spent most of the time keeping him on his feet really. So.”

Chan nodded. “But you had fun?”

Minghao seemed intent on evading any admittance of having a good time. “Yeah. It was okay.”

“I’m jealous of you,” Hansol said easily, and Chan wanted to get up and leave. That was the voice Hansol always used when he was about to cross the line. “Jun hyung’s really cute, isn’t he? I mean he’s super good looking, he even did child acting in China. He’s so talented and nice. I’d love to dance with him. You’re lucky, hyung.”

Chan noticed the stiff, uneasy posture that Minghao had slowly transformed to over the course of the conversation, and nodded slightly at Hansol. Minghao would surely lock up completely if they kept pressuring him about it and talking about Junhui like this. 

“I’m not into guys,” Minghao said sharply. “Can we stop? This is making me uncomfortable.”

“Yeah,” Chan said, shooting Hansol a warning stare.  _ Now look what you did.  _ “We didn’t mean to make you feel weird, hyung, honest. We were just happy for you.”

“There’s nothing to be happy about, because I don’t like Junhui. He’s a nice friend, though.” Minghao got up to throw his empty carton away, coming back and sitting down, still looking put-off, confused, and upset. 

They sat in silence a few more minutes.

“Actually, I’m going to go home,” Minghao said, and began gathering his things. “I’ve got a test on Monday, I should study. You two head back together safely, okay?”

Before they could even say goodbye, he’d already left.

“What is wrong with you?” Chan grumbled, glaring at Hansol. 

“I thought he’d laugh! It was like a joke!” Hansol threw his hands up. “How was I supposed to know he would get shy and weird about it?”

“Because his whole life his parents have been telling him that it’s only right to be straight, he can’t even think about confronting the fact he might not be! You know how conservative they are. He’s fine with his friends being as queer as they like, but he probably doesn’t want that for himself, or know that it’s  _ okay _ to be like that yourself. Poor Hao hyung. His head must hurt right now. It’s like being told you’re adopted.”

Hansol sighed, resting his elbows on the table and propping his face up in his hands. “I hope he figures it out soon.”

“He may never figure it out. He could be closeted to himself forever. The kindest I can say for the level of pressuring you just gave him- it’s a slap of reality.” Chan mirrored Hansol, staring into the others’ eyes. “Remember. We’re acting on what we have, not trying to force things. Don’t shove him into it.”

“I’m pretty sure he’s not straight.”

“Yes, but we won’t get anywhere if we make him feel upset. He’ll just associate that uncomfortable feeling with being queer, and then he’ll crawl back into his little pretend-to-be-straight hermit shell and leave himself single and Junhui hyung completely heartbroken.” Chan pursed his lips. “Power of association. Jihoon hyung was talking about it last night.”

“Well,” Hansol started, then sighed. “I don’t even have anything to say. Do you ever feel like that? You talk just to talk?”

“I like to think things through before I say them,” Chan informed the other as they naturally stood together, sensing the outing to be over and exiting the cafe. “Unfortunately, you don’t have much of a filter.”

“Channie, I’ve got no filter. I give the real shit.”

“Yeah, like the shit you just fed Minghao hyung.”

“Exactly like that.” 

•

“You’re really good,” Ryujin said, fidgeting shyly in her seat. “That pass in the second half- it was cool.”

“Thanks,” Mingyu replied, keeping his eyes on the glass of water in front of him. The ice was condensing and beads of water were collecting on the clear outer surface of the glass. “You play too, right? I’ve never seen you on the Pledis girl’s team.”

“Nope. Don’t have time. I play Junior Women First Division for Seoul.”

“Woah.” Mingyu looked at her with new respect. “That’s… wow.”

“We should play together,” Ryujin said, her eyes sparkling. “I’ll totally beat you.”

Now, Mingyu wasn’t into Ryujin like that yet, but he loved confidence. And that certainly gave her a plus point in his book.

“After you saw me play, you really think you can outshine me?” Mingyu narrowed his eyes, grinning as he leaned across the table. “I bet if I tried out for Junior Men’s I’d make it.”

“Why don’t you?” Ryujin challenged.

Mingyu sighed. “My grandma doesn’t want me going into soccer. She wants me to go to the military, after my dad. Make him proud and all that.”

Ryujin nodded. “Ooh. Well, that’s still something worthwhile.”

Mingyu didn’t bother telling Ryujin about the dark part of that reasoning. “Yeah, I guess. I’d love to do soccer, though. For a living. If I ever get the chance, I’ll definitely take it.”

“Guess we’ll be seeing each other a lot, then.” Ryujin winked as the waiter walked over, ready to take their orders. 

Mingyu felt himself relax as the date went on. This wasn’t so hard. Talking to girls wasn’t this bad. If only all girls actually understood soccer. 

The problem was that he didn’t feel any sort of connection to her even after talking about something he was so passionate about. It just felt like talking to a best friend. Well, not really. He didn’t feel like this when he talked to Wonwoo, who was supposed to be his best friend. 

Too many things came to his head when he thought about Wonwoo, and he firmly reminded himself that he was giving Ryujin a chance because of all those thoughts.

Maybe it was because they were so similar, Mingyu wondered through lunch. Ryujin had many of the same talents and hobbies that he did, they were pretty matched emotionally, they seemed in every way compatible. That little spark was just missing. He couldn’t explain it. It wasn’t there and that was it.

Maybe because Mingyu knew who he’d really rather be sitting here with. He couldn’t help that. He’d done everything with Wonwoo for the last few years and it was strange to suddenly spend so much time without him. The lack of the older’s familiar presence just made him think about all those things he felt flustered and embarrassed and ashamed to think about. Things more important than Wonwoo’s betrayal. 

It wasn’t fair to Ryujin that he wasn’t invested yet, but Mingyu was determined to make himself like her instead. He could do it. He would do it. He didn’t have another choice. 

Because the alternative would never happen. 

•

“You think he’s home?” Seokmin asked dubiously.

“It’s 4 PM, he’s probably taking his afternoon nap,” Seungkwan snorted, pressing the doorbell. “His parents work literally all the time, he’s in there and free.”

“Guys, if he looks too miserable, we should just leave,” Soonyoung cautioned. “Give him some space, you know-”

“No. You never leave people alone if they look  _ too _ miserable,” Seungkwan ruled.

Seokmin nodded in agreement, clutching the bag they’d brought with them. “We’re going to stay until he feels better.”

Soonyoung opened his mouth to refute, but the door swung open. 

“What?” Jeonghan snapped, his voice breaking halfway through.

“ _ Hyung _ ,” Soonyoung whispered.

“You look like shit,” Seungkwan murmured.

“Thanks a bunch,” Jeonghan hissed, swiping at his already red-rimmed swollen eyes. His face was sallow and pale, and his usually coiffed and shiny platinum blonde locks were limp as his figure, hanging over his dull eyes. “I’m having a day. What do you three want?”

“How was your nap, hyung?” Seokmin asked cheerfully. “Did we wake you?”

Soonyoung stepped on Seokmin’s foot sharply. “Idiot. Does he look like he’s had a nap?”

“I haven’t slept since last night,” Jeonghan said dryly, stepping back and letting them in nevertheless. “Again, what do you all want?”

“We came to cheer you up!” Seungkwan stepped into the house, Seokmin following and Soonyoung entering last.

Seungkwan headed for the living room, Seokmin in tow, leaving Jeonghan with Soonyoung. Soonyoung watched the older boy carefully, noticing how Jeonghan’s fingers were trembling slightly even as he closed and locked the door, as if he’d been in a crying fit and had to pull himself together for the door. Taking another glance at Jeonghan’s puffy face and disheveled hair, Soonyoung decided his assumption wasn’t too far off. 

“Your parents not home again?” Soonyoung asked Jeonghan as they slowly walked to the living room, wanting to give Jeonghan a few moments before Seungkwan and Seokmin took over with their cheering tactics.

“Work trip,” Jeonghan answered brusquely, his voice rasping. “They haven’t been home all week, and they won’t be for the next one either. I’ve been staying at Cheol’s, or he’s been here- except yesterday. I guess he won’t be here next week, either. I’ll be alone.”

“How much did you cry?”

“I haven’t eaten or slept, and I’m not in the mood to do anything else. What do you think I was doing before you came?”

“You haven’t  _ eaten _ ?” Soonyoung demanded. 

“My boyfriend says he’s taking a week off from me for a stupid decision I admit I made when I wasn’t thinking right, and he sounds like he’s going to break up with me at the end of the week. Of course I haven’t eaten. Would you eat?  _ Could _ you?” Jeonghan sniffled, wiping at his eyes again and crossing his arms over his thin figure, hunching his shoulders as he stared at the floor, his hair falling over his face and obscuring it from Soonyoung’s view. “Why are you here?”

“We heard about what happened.”

“I didn’t tell anyone I was sad.”

“Seungkwan saw Shua hyung’s snapchat story with you in the car, dated from last night. You two went missing from the dance around the same time and Cheol hyung was losing his mind. And when we checked his last snap location before he turned his phone off, it was at your house. You two fight about Shua hyung a lot, and no doubt the two of you fought yesterday because what happened. Neither you or Cheol hyung were active on social media at all since yesterday, meaning you’re both upset. Put all those things together…”

Jeonghan shrugged again. “I guess.”

“Hyung, you’re shaking,” Soonyoung said sympathetically, putting a hand on Jeonghan’s back. 

“It’s cold. I don’t know how to adjust the thermostat settings. My mom always does it for me.”

“You have so many of Seungcheol’s hoodies-”

“Do you think I want to wear them right now?”

“I think you need to. To feel better.”

“I’ll just feel worse.”

They arrived at the living room, where they were met with Seungkwan and Seokmin spreading out fluffy blankets on Jeonghan’s carpet. 

“What are you two doing?” Jeonghan said bitterly.

“Movie afternoon,” Seungkwan said brightly. “It’s a nice Saturday, we brought all your favorite DVDs over. What do you want to start with? Prisoner of Azkaban or Goblet of Fire?”

Jeonghan stood still for a few seconds, then his face crumpled up as he began to sob, no longer able to hold himself together. “Cheol used to watch those with me…”

Seokmin darted for him, hugging the lean older boy tightly. “It’s alright, Han hyung, don’t cry! No Harry Potter, then, okay? We brought the whole Friends box set, too, you like to watch those with us, right?”

Jeonghan nodded, still crying like a small child. 

Soonyoung surveyed Jeonghan’s pitiful condition, and sighed, heading for the kitchen behind the living room. “We need to get some food into him. And water. Seungkwan, get him some water. He’s probably cried out all of it.”

Soonyoung took a deep breath and opened the fridge, surveying the racks. “I’m not the best cook, but at this point we’re going for sustenance.” Grabbing every compatible vegetable he could along with a container of rice, he set about the stove, putting an oiled pan on the flame. “Seokmin, could you go upstairs and get him a sweater?”

Seokmin nodded and disappeared after setting Jeonghan down on the soft blanket spread, Seungkwan kneeling next to the distraught boy and handing him a glass of water. “Drink up, hyung, it’s alright…”

Soonyoung stirred around the contents of the pan, thankful that the vegetables he’d chopped and jumbled together didn’t actually look too bad. “Chef Soonyoung’s Mixed Rice Delight. Coming right up.”

Jeonghan managed a watery laugh as Seokmin reappeared, holding a sweater and the gigantic dinosaur plush that Chan had made two years ago in a family consumer science class and given to his favorite hyung. Jeonghan would never admit it but they all knew he hugged it to sleep every night. 

“Here’s Cheol’s hoodie and here’s your dino,” Seokmin said brightly, helping Jeonghan into the hoodie and placing the toy in his arms. “Can we get some pillows from your linen cabinet to spread around here?”

Jeonghan nodded and the other two raced off- they knew their way around Jeonghan’s house well.

Soonyoung sat down next to Jeonghan, having finished cooking and brought the bowl over. “Want me to feed you?” He offered kindly. 

“I can do it,” Jeonghan sniffled, taking the bowl from Soonyoung and nibbling on a singular grain of rice. Soonyoung watched exasperatedly as Jeonghan picked up three more grains, and as the older settled into a comfortable pace of one miniscule bite at a time, Soonyoung decided to start talking.

“How could you not eat, hyung? Look at you. You’re already a stick.”

Jeonghan shrugged. “Cheol cooks for me. You guys know that whenever our parents go on trips we always spend that time together. Someone’s always cooking for me. I don’t know how to make anything myself.”

“You should’ve called Mingyu.”

“He’s busy today with soccer. Plus he’s got a girlfriend now so he’ll be with her.”

“Hyung,” Soonyoung chided gently. “Everyone in our friend circle- all of us- wouldn’t hesitate dropping our lovers for one day to come and make sure you’re alright. You know that, right?”

“Yeah, but I just feel bad. This is my mess.”

“We’ll work it out. We’ll help you.”

Seokmin and Seungkwan returned, arms laden with a dozen down-feather stuffed pillows, which they placed strewn all over the floor.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Soonyoung prodded, seeing as the other two were too busy sifting through discs.

Jeonghan crossed his legs, putting the half-eaten bowl onto the ground. “I suppose it’ll make me feel better.”

Seungkwan and Seokmin joined them, all three little ducklings clustering patiently around Jeonghan.

“So… yesterday, Joshua asked me to leave with him. Just to drive around, get away from the dance a bit. You guys know how I get migraines when it’s all loud and crazy for too long…”

“Joshua doesn’t know that,” Seokmin contradicted. “That’s not why he asked you to leave.”

“He only invited me to accompany him, but my headache was part of the reason I went.”

“But hyung,” Seungkwan said placatingly. “Cheol hyung was really upset and scared. He thought something happened to you.”

“I know,” Jeonghan sighed. “I know he was. I don’t even know why I didn’t wait for Cheol,” he added, tracing a circle in the sheets under him. “I just felt like- like if I didn’t leave that second… I don’t know. It just… I felt so compelled to  _ go _ . Even though I knew Cheol would be angry, even though I knew it wasn’t right to just leave. Looking back on it, I was absolutely horrible yesterday night. I talked to Cheol like- I don’t know. It felt bad then and it feels even worse now. But I can’t even  _ explain _ . That’s what frightens me-” Jeonghan took a shuddering breath. “I should be able to explain why I felt that way. I can never explain. Not when it comes to him.”

“Him? Cheol hyung?” Seokmin asked, confused.

“No.” Jeonghan smiled bitterly. “Shua.”

The three ducklings exchanged a look.

“Feel what way?” Soonyoung asked cautiously.

Jeonghan was silent. 

“ _ What _ way?” Seungkwan egged on.

“Confused,” Jeonghan said quietly.

You could’ve heard a fruit fly buzzing in the silence that statement left in the living room.

“You-” Seokmin paused. “You think that you’re into-”

“I don’t want to talk about this anymore,” Jeonghan said miserably. “Can we just do something else, please?”

Soonyoung’s gaze softened as he watched Jeonghan’s sniffling form. 

Jeonghan hadn’t been crying because of the fight.

He hadn’t been crying because he was scared of Seungcheol breaking up with him soon- although that fear definitely didn’t help. 

He’d been crying because he knew he was in the wrong, knew how he was feeling wasn’t right, but couldn’t stop himself from feeling the way he was.

He’d been crying because of the guilt.

“We don’t have to talk about this,” Seungkwan assured Jeonghan, rubbing his shoulder. “It’s your business, after all.”

“But- I feel like if I don’t talk about now I’ll never talk about it,” Jeonghan said, mopping at his eyes even as fresh tears began pooling in them. “I just- I need an answer. I don’t know what to do. What do I do?”

“You need to tell us how you feel,” Seokmin said gently. “We can’t help you if you can’t tell us.”

“I don’t know how to explain what I feel,” Jeonghan breathed, his voice weak as he closed his eyes, hot tears slipping down his cheeks. “I’m so frustrated all the time, I can’t stop thinking about both of them, I can’t make sense of any of it, I feel like a dirty person for the way I’m acting, I feel like I’m using both of them, I feel like-”

“Hyung,” Seungkwan said, grabbing Jeonghan by the shoulders. “Hyung, breathe. Sip some water. We’re going to help you, okay?”

“Nobody can help,” Jeonghan sniffled. “Nobody can help because I’m a horrible person. Something’s  _ wrong _ with me.”

“Shut up,” Soonyoung said firmly, holding the glass of water to Jeonghans’ lips until the older relented and took a sip. “Don’t talk like that. You’re tired and sleep-deprived, everything feels like shit. It’s temporary. You’ll feel better soon.”

Jeonghan shook his head limply. “Yeah? What I look like now is how it’s been like inside my head since three weeks ago, when Shua arrived. The second I saw him I knew my life is going to get screwed up so fucking badly.”

“But you love Seungcheol,” Seungkwan persisted.

“Of course I do. I love Cheol like crazy. But…”

“It’s not the same,” Seokmin suggested.

Jeonghan shook his head. “It’s not that. That’s the scary part. I love Cheol exactly the same, but now I also…” A sigh. “I don’t know how to put this into words.”

“Have you… with Joshua…” Seokmin asked uncertainly.

Jeonghan shook his head firmly. “No. No way. I haven’t touched him, and he hasn’t made a single physical move. I’ve still got morals- although who would even believe that anymore,” he finished morosely, drooping again. “I’m acting like a whore.”

“You’re not a whore,” Soonyoung said gently, clasping Jeonghan’s trembling hands in his. “Why don’t you just talk to both of them about this?”

Jeonghan gave him an incredulous look. “Are you out of your mind? You think it’s that easy? How would I even explain this? I can’t even explain it to myself. This isn’t right and it makes no sense either. Plus, they can’t be in the same room with each other for more than a second before Cheol starts glaring at Shua and Shua starts sassing him. It’s a bad combination. They’d rip each others’ heads off before I get a word out.” Jeonghan paused, evidently having too many words swirling around in his head. He frowned, attempting to sort them out into some sort of coherent thoughts, and then- “Am I just selfish? Is that it? I have one boyfriend and I want two? Who the hell thinks like that? I’m the kind of person that I’d hate.”

“Two people? Isn’t that…” Seungkwan looked like he was in deep thought, then shook his head. “Nevermind. If I say something now, I might make a bigger mess.”

The spark seemed to have gone out of Jeonghan now, for he sagged against Soonyoung’s body, playing with a loose thread on Seungcheol’s sweater. “I don’t think we should talk about this anymore. I’m glad you three know now but I feel like I’ve exhausted myself more after getting it all out.”

“Let’s just watch something and forget about life,” Soonyoung suggested.

“Shall I put the disc in?” Seokmin asked, kneeling at the TV.

Jeonghan nodded, curling up between Soonyoung and Seungkwan, their backs against the sofa behind them, legs spread out on the floor. 

They kept an eye on Jeonghan the whole time, laughing when he laughed. They were so attached to him, after all he was the one who took care of them. They were just returning a tiny portion of the favor, because it’d be impossible to pay off all that Jeonghan had done for them as an older brother figure through the years. 

And after the mixed rice was finished, Jeonghan ate his way through half a pint of mint chocolate ice cream and fell asleep on Soonyoung’s shoulder, at which point they paused the show and Soonyoung crept upstairs, setting Jeonghan down in his bed and tucking the blankets around the dozing youth.

Soonyoung gazed down at Jeonghan before walking to the bathroom and getting a damp towel, kneeling next to Jeonghan’s curled up figure and carefully dabbing the tearstains off his cheeks. He hated seeing Jeonghan sad like that. Not after how giving and generous and loving Jeonghan was to all of them- sure, he could feel guilty, but he shouldn’t have cried like that. It made Soonyoung’s heart hurt. 

He made sure Jeonghan was warm in his sheets and closed the door quietly behind himself as he climbed back downstairs. 

Over the next half hour, Seokmin and Seungkwan cleaned up as Soonyoung cooked more food for Jeonghan to use, carefully affixing little notes to each tupperware with heating instructions before putting all of it in the fridge. That was what his parents had done the one time they’d left him alone for a few days, and it’d been immensely helpful. Jeonghan’s parents were so wrapped up with work that they probably didn’t even notice that their son was completely reliant on another person to cook for him when they were gone.

Seokmin inspected the thermostat and figured out how it worked, writing up detailed instructions on how to change the heat settings and taping it up next to the small box. Seungkwan printed cheerful messages in pretty handwriting on a selection of post-it notes, sticking them all around the ground floor. He added one more post-it with all of their phone numbers for easy access, smacking it right next to the landline that Jeonghan probably never used. Better safe than sorry.

“Well,” Soonyoung sighed, glancing around the house. “We’ve done what we can. And we didn’t wake him up either, which means he’s really exhausted. Let’s leave through the garage, we can lock up the place behind ourselves.”

They snuck out of the house, making sure that all the doors were locked.

“Okay,” Soonyoung sighed as they sat down on Jeonghan’s front steps, watching neighbors pass by on the darkened streets. “Now what? It’s…” he checked the time. “6 PM. Do you guys wanna go out to the metropolitan city and grab some-”

“Polyamory,” Seungkwan said suddenly, as if having spent a long time in his thoughts. “That’s the word.”

Seokmin turned to him. “What did you say?”

“Polyamorous orientation,” Seungkwan said softly. “It all makes sense.”

The three ducklings stared at each other.

“Diamond Cafe,” Seokmin decided.

“Diamond Cafe and a lot of piecing things together,” Soonyoung agreed, grabbing each by the elbow and dragging them off.

It seemed like there was work to be done. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i am really proud of that description of soonyoung’s fit, if not anything else
> 
> some of y’all may be thinking i overdid jeonghan. as a fellow libra and jeonghan Thinker i can affirm that his behavior completely accurate 
> 
> anyways leave a comment maybe even to criticize my grammar bc i speedwrote this in two days so stuff might be off,,, uh
> 
> see you guys in chapter 28!
> 
> tell someone you love them today!! i love all of you mwah
> 
> -mingyuwu


	30. 28. debates and diablerie

“You’re going to do great,” Soonyoung said, patting Wonwoo on the back. “Don’t worry. You’re spectacular, Won, alright? You got this.”

Wonwoo tried to hide his gulp, straightening his suit jacket as he glanced in the mirror. They’d ducked into the bathroom on the first floor to get Wonwoo changed into his debate attire as the school moved down to the auditorium for assembly. 

Jihoon darted into the bathroom- they’d texted everyone to convene here. “Hey. How’re we holding up?”

“Not good,” Wonwoo said uneasily, casting a longing look at the stalls. He wanted to throw up. Or lock himself in here and never come out. “Not good at all. I can’t do this. Soonyoung hyung, can you-”

“I can’t take over for you, Won. You gotta do this yourself.”

“Here,” Jihoon said, handing Wonwoo a bottle. “Fruit juice. Sugars to elevate your adrenaline.”

Wonwoo didn’t have the effort to lash out at Jihoon for making everything so sciency, because there was truth anyway in what the tiny boy had said. So he unscrewed the cap and drank, wrinkling his nose at the familiar taste of that stupid strawberry juice Mingyu and Soonyoung both adored. Wonwoo didn’t understand why people enjoyed this sugary preservative filled crap, but then again he had a soft spot for those people in particular. 

Well, he didn’t have a soft spot for Soonyoung. There was no room for Soonyoung in Wonwoo’s heart, unfortunately.

Junhui dashed in, looking harried. “Done!”

“Done?” Wonwoo asked, already in a flustered panic. “Done what? What does that mean? Can’t you try to use a few more words, we could piece it together-”

“He means he put the posters in my locker,” Soonyoung soothed. “Don’t worry about it, Won, everything’s really alright. We’ve got it all handled.”

“I don’t have my part handled,” Wonwoo said weakly, accepting the sheaf of paper that Jihoon thrust at him. “What’s all this?”

“Pointers.” 

Wonwoo scanned through the notes that he remembered them looking through, and perhaps it was all his panicking but he couldn’t remember a single thing on the page. Everything looked foreign, and his eyes were drawn to the precise neon pink or blue highlighting. “Pointers?”

“Pointers,” Jihoon confirmed. “They’ll proceed through the debate with sections, each one pertaining to one thing or another. I’ve put the section headings- I mean, I don’t know what exactly the sections will be but it’s a school president debate so it should be pretty generalized to common things you’d expect- anyways, I’ve highlighted section headings in blue. Specific points are in pink.”

“Nobody gave me talking lessons,” Wonwoo hissed. “I can’t be smooth up there.”

“It’s okay, Won!” Soonyoung lightly clapped a hand on his shoulder. “Just remember, Jihoon and Junhui are in the audience, and Jeongguk too. Your brother’s here. Just think like you’re talking to your brother.”

“I don’t talk to my brother. He talks to me. And usually laughs at me whenever I actually try my best at something that isn’t purely nerd-academics. Like athletics. Or public speaking.” Wonwoo gulped. “Public speaking.”

Jihoon rolled his eyes. “Here we go.”

“No time,” Junhui said worriedly, checking his phone. “Already time.”

“It’s 1, you need to get onstage by 1:15,” Soonyoung said. “How about I walk you there? Jihoon and Junhui have to go find seats in the audience, you two go ahead.”

“Are you sure?” Jihoon asked uncertainly.

“Yeah. Give me a minute with him.”

The other two wished Wonwoo luck and headed out of the bathroom, leaving him with Soonyoung.

Wonwoo stared into the mirror, gulping as his heart palpitated. He felt sick and dizzy.

“Hey,” Soonyoung said sharply, turning Wonwoo by the shoulders to hold him up. “Listen to me. Look at me.”

Wonwoo forced himself to meet Soonyoung’s eyes.

Soonyoung gave him a smile. “You know, I still get nervous sometimes before I go on stage for a performance. Whether it’s for dance or the musical or a vocal recital, I still feel weak and shaky.”

“Great,” Wonwoo said. “How is that helpful?”

Soonyoung squeezed his shoulders. “That’s me telling you not to worry, because you’re not the only person who’s felt this way and you’re going to do way better than you think.”

“Remind me _why_ I did this,” Wonwoo exhaled.

“Because you wanted more extracurriculars.”

“Oh, right.” Wonwoo sighed. “How do I get myself into these messes?”

“Don’t worry. I’m gonna be right next to you nearly all the way.”

“What do you mean, nearly?”

“I mean, you have to stand on stage by yourself.”

“Thanks a million. That’s really making it better.”

Soonyoung laughed. “Come on. Let’s get you to the auditorium.”

They left the bathroom and headed into the main hallway, met by crowds of students making their way down to the assembly. Blending in with the swarms, they kept walking.

A majority of the female student body was wearing pink hair clips, each one with a tiny swirly T on it. Must be supporters of Sana’s campaign. Wonwoo wondered if maybe they should've made something like that to give people… too late now. 

Soonyoung kept a comforting arm around Wonwoo, glancing behind them at the raucous group of Hyunjin supporters a few feet away. Wonwoo took no notice until-

“Shit,” Soonyoung whispered. Wonwoo turned to look. “No, don’t, you’ll be upset-”

“Hwang?” Jisung was yelling, walking backward to survey the masses, leading a group of students in a chant. 

“For Wang!” Everyone echoed loudly, cheering as they waved around Hyunjin pickets. Dear god, Hyunjin _pickets_. Exactly how much money had the well-off boys spent on this campaign before the first official debate?

“One more time! Hwang!”

“For Wang!” The crowd shouted back. 

Wonwoo was pretty sure that Hyunjin himself wasn’t here, and was already backstage at the auditorium getting ready. Was it just the crowd of supporters that had Soonyoung swearing, then?

And then he saw him.

Mingyu, arm in arm with two friends from the soccer team, looking rather distant and put-off yet still cheering for Hyunjin as he walked with the cheering group. Rallying for the person that Wonwoo was up against. 

“Stop looking!” Soonyoung hissed. “He’s going to see you and-”

Sure enough, Mingyu’s gaze locked onto Wonwoo and he froze for a second, almost considering, those deceptively innocent eyes masking the lightning sharp mind behind them. 

And those sweet eyes slid to the right to see Soonyoung still holding onto Wonwoo, and any indecisiveness in them hardened into the pained yet determined look of someone who just got salt rubbed violently into the still-fresh wound. 

“No,” Wonwoo breathed, and although there were so many people separating them, he knew Mingyu had read his lips. 

It was too late.

Mingyu gave Wonwoo a cool stare and barely imperceptible shrug before looking away and rejoining the chanting crazed masses.

“Fuck,” Wonwoo muttered, even as Soonyoung grabbed him by the hand and dragged him past other people to put some distance between him and his ex-best friend. 

Because if it hadn’t hit him yet, he’d just realized how deserted he was now.

•

“You have the opening script?” Jeonghan asked Seungcheol stiffly.

Seungcheol nodded, accepting some other papers from the other. “Yeah.”

It was silent then, as they stood on the brightly lit auditorium stage and looked out at the empty auditorium- the doors were still closed to the student body, and currently only tech crew and the debate participants and their teams were allowed inside.

Seungcheol reached out and pulled Jeonghan out of the way to make room for a couple of techies setting up a podium. A few more people scurried in front of them holding microphone wires, and Seungcheol decided it might just be better if they went offstage for a bit to give the crew some space.

“Come on,” he muttered, and walked off stage left, Jeonghan following after him.

They were left in the near-darkness of backstage, surveying the candidates. Hyunjin was restlessly tapping his foot against the floor a ways off, Seungmin speaking quietly to him as he adjusted the other’s suit. Sana was tying up her hair, looking sharp and calm, Momo walking a circle around her president mindlessly, voicing ideas here and there. There was only one group missing.

“Where are-” Seungcheol started, cut off by Jeonghan grabbing his hands.

“I’m sorry. Cheol, I’m sorry for what happened at the dance.”

Seungcheol stared at Jeonghan, at how desperate he looked. “What?”

“I just want to apologize properly,” Jeonghan exhaled. “You know. In case. You were thinking about.”

Seungcheol slowly pulled his hands away from Jeonghan, glancing to make sure that the candidates didn’t see them. “I’m sorry. We’re still taking a week. I need time to think.”

“Cheol, please,” Jeonghan begged.

Seungcheol sighed, peering through the backstage area to find the techies pulling the house curtain across the front stage to cover it. The doors would open soon and the assembly would start as well. 

“I haven’t made up my mind about anything. Give me space, Han. Please.”

Jeonghan’s were sparkling with tears. “I can explain.”

“House opening now!” A stage crew member shouted, and sure enough the sounds of chattering students began filling the auditorium from the other side of the house curtain, and music began playing. “Five minute call!”

“Thank you, five!” Jeonghan called back, turning to Seungcheol and giving him a pleading look. “Cheol, let’s talk about this. Please.” He whispered.

“We can’t do this right now,” Seungcheol hissed, looking around at all the candidates. “We need to open the debate. We cannot do this. We’re going to fight and you’ll cry like always and I’ll get irritable and we’ll screw this assembly up. I told you to leave it for a week.” He raised his voice, addressing the candidates. “Line up at your podiums, please! They’ll open the house curtain soon.”

“Cheol,” Jeonghan whispered weakly.

Suengcheol was at a loss for words.

He loved Jeonghan more than anything. He might even love Jeonghan more than his family. But if Jeonghan was able to leave him so easily for one evening, what was there to say that he wouldn’t do it again? Except not for an evening, and then for maybe a week, then a month, then forever? What about then?

Wouldn’t it be better to just observe how Jeonghan acted around Joshua for a week from afar? Wouldn’t it be better to just cut Jeonghan loose if he was happier with Joshua? Wasn’t that what he wanted? For Jeonghan to be happy?

If it wasn’t him that brought Jeonghan that happiness, then maybe it was better to let him go.

Seungcheol really prayed it wouldn’t come to that. He was hoping it wouldn’t- the presence of the tears in Jeonghan’s eyes indicated that Jeonghan wanted to work this out too.

“No,” Seungcheol said firmly. “I said not right now.” He sighed, casting his gaze around. “Seriously, where on earth are-”

Wonwoo darted in through the backstage door, Soonyoung following. Both were panting hard, as if they’d come running.

Seungcheol took the opportunity to brush Jeonghan off of him, rushing over to the pair. “Won, you’ve got to get on stage. Are you okay?”

“Feel sick,” Wonwoo mumbled, accepting the water Seungcheol handed him. “Oh, god, how many students are behind that curtain? Sounds like a whole country.”

“Don’t think about it,” Seungcheol said gently. “Han- I mean, Jeonghan, get Wonwoo to his podium. Soonyoung, you better go get a seat,” he said, nodding after Seungmin and Momo, who were taking the backstage wraparound stairs into the auditorium. He didn’t dare look at Jeonghan as the latter led Wonwoo off, knowing he’d be upset that Seungcheol had called him by his full name. 

“Okay,” Soonyoung agreed, craning his neck to make sure Wonwoo had made it all ten steps onto the stage and to his podium. “He’ll be fine. He’s got this.”

Seungcheol gave a neutral nod, aware he wasn’t allowed to give support to one particular candidate or another. He didn’t feel like encouraging Wonwoo much either, not after what had happened with Mingyu. 

Waving goodbye to Soonyoung as the latter left, he turned for the stage, stepping onto it and getting ready next to Jeonghan on the forefront, barely inches away from the thick red velvet curtains still concealing them and the candidates behind them from view.

“Ready?” Seungcheol asked him, tuning out the chatter of the students on the other side of the curtains. This felt strangely deja vu to last year, when their two-man team had trailblazed through all three debates and won overwhelming school support to cheer them on to their win. This time, though, they’d be taking the role of their predecessors, emceeing the debates while providing resources and leadership for the candidates that were to take their place next year.

“Ready,” Jeonghan said, and they gazed at each other for a moment, both of them feeling that nostalgic excitement and nervous energy that came with the first debate of the election season.

Seungcheol swallowed, hard, because he couldn’t look at Jeonghan long before it started hurting again.

He nodded to the stage crew, turning his attention to the front and putting on that dazzling smile that the school loved.

The curtains slowly drew back, revealing clapping and cheering students, everyone anticipating the kickstarting of this year’s election season. The lights flashed and blinded Jeonghan momentarily, despite him being used to it, and he stumbled slightly, Seungcheol swiftly grasping Jeonghan by the shoulders and holding on to him as his boyfriend adjusted to the overwhelming spotlight.

“Thanks,” Jeonghan whispered, and Seungcheol gave a small nod, letting him go and glancing down at his script. He glanced back once to find the three candidates standing at their podiums: Sana looking immensely more nervous under the eyes of the school yet still composed; Hyunjin grinning and waving at the audience, and Wonwoo, pale faced and gripping his podium yet maintaining the most casual posture he could.

Oh well. 

It’d pan out the way it did.

“Ladies and gentlemen of Pledis High,” Seungcheol began with flair, earning whooping and calls from the crowd. “I present to you, your eighteenth chapter government board candidates!”

Yet more cheering. It was not hard to get the Pledis students into a frenzy. Although Seungcheol wasn’t sure if they were actually interested in the debate or just getting out of their last two hours of classes.

“Before we begin the debate, we’d like to ask everyone to silence their phones and other devices,” Jeonghan took over brightly, not a trace of the boy who’d been pleading with Seungcheol minutes ago. That was the worrying thing. Jeonghan was just too good at pretending. “We don’t want to add more distractions to the already stressful job of standing up here! And remember that these are the candidates that you will be voting for later this year. It’s important to give each one the courteous respect as you gave us last year. As we always like to say, the power is in _your_ hands to elect the candidate that you believe will be most beneficial to our student body!”

Polite clapping ensued, and Seungcheol felt rather proud of his school as he saw many people taking their phones out and turning them off before pocketing them again.

“The debate will commence in three sections,” Seungcheol continued, having taken the mic back from Jeonghan. “I’m aware many of you upperclassmen are knowledgeable of debate proceedings, but please refrain from side conversation at this time so that our underclassmen and transfer students can fully understand and engage. The first section will ask candidates about their personal life and how they believe that their experiences will bolster general school life. The second section will question candidates on what changes they are planning to make. And the final section will open up to the student body to ask questions. The debate will start with a thirty second introduction by each candidate. Each candidate will have one minute to answer the general questions, and thirty seconds to make a rebuttal against another candidate if requested. During the final section, candidates will be given two minutes per each question written to them.”

“As a last reminder, the auditorium doors will be closed during the debate,” Jeonghan added. “Unless it’s a case of medical emergency or you have an early leave pass, you will not be permitted to leave the assembly after it has begun. Again, this is a part of our standards to ensure every candidate gets a proper say and knows that they are being heard. Unfortunately, this rule has been put in place due to irresponsible behavior on the part of several students during the last election season. We consulted with the administrative board and decided that this is the preventative measure necessary. I understand this is a new rule, so if you have drank a lot of water today now is the time to go. The assembly will officially start in five minutes. Please use this time.”

Mumbling and shifting from the crowd, and several students got up and headed to the doors. Other students began chattering amongst themselves as Seungcheol and Jeonghan checked over their scripts the last time, making sure they were done with the introduction before heading over to their small lectern at the outer corner of the stage, where they’d be asking questions and running the debate. 

Seungcheol put the microphone down on the lectern, turning to address the candidates. “Use these five minutes to prepare, get a last sip of water. Remember, you’ve practiced for this, and however much of that practice you’ve done will pay off. Stay confident and it’s okay to take the time to think. One minute is longer than you’d expect.”

Sana nodded, flashing a nervous smile. Hyunjin gave Seungcheol a thumbs up, perusing his notes. Wonwoo merely stared at him, then back at the audience, still feigning casualness. 

Seungcheol shrugged and turned back to Jeonghan, finding the other looking longingly at him despite the two of them standing right next to each other behind the lectern.

“What?” Seungcheol whispered, turning off the microphone that lay between the two of them. 

“Nothing,” Jeonghan murmured back, moving to shift his body in front of Seungcheol’s, blocking them from the prying eyes of the student body. Not like anyone could hear them, anyway. When Pledis students started talking, you could have a herd of elephants and a tycoon battering the school and nobody would hear. 

“Then why are you looking at me like that?”

Jeonghan shrugged, starting to smile. “I don’t know. I really missed this. Doing government stuff. With you. The whole air of the debate, all of it… watching you on stage the first debate, doing my own the second time, joining you for the last debate… it was so much fun.”

Seungcheol slowly smiled back. “I missed it too. It was fun.”

They waited patiently until it looked like every seat in the auditorium was filled again, and the chatting slowly wound down until it was quiet.

Seungcheol picked up the mic, turning it back on and raising it to his lips. “It’s the moment you’ve been waiting for. 1 PM, 19th of October. Let the first debate begin.” 

•

Wonwoo felt another bead of sweat slip down the back of his neck into his suit.

The lights dimmed until a single spotlight shone onto Sana, who was looking much more nervous now. Wonwoo couldn’t really see the girl on the other side of Hyunjin, but he’d leaned forward slightly to catch a glimpse of her anxious expression.

Still, her voice as she began to deliver her introduction was nothing short of confident and easygoing. “Hi, everyone! I’m Minatozaki Sana from Team ONCE, and I’m running this year to improve the quality of co-ed clubs, create more opportunities for women's sports and athletics, and elevate both social and academic life here at Pledis. My committee consists of Hirai Momo, my vice president; Myoui Mina, my publicist; and Kim Dahyun, my debate prep advisor. We believe in balancing our policies with yours to provide a successful and well-loved leadership legacy!”

Polite applause greeted this summary, and flushed with preemptive success, Sana turned her mic downwards, smiling at Hyunjin to take over. 

“Hey, everyone,” Hyunjin grinned, instantly earning a deafening racket. “My name’s Hwang Hyunjin and I’m aiming to give social events a whole new meaning, at the same time providing more electives to cater to students with diverse interests and talents, and of course, to get you guys to come to our dance competitions.” An appreciative laugh echoed back from the audience. “My whole campaign’s centered around having your best interests at heart. I’ve got my vice president Han Jisung and debate preparator Kim Seungmin backing me up, and the three of us are going to _deliver_. That’s all I’ve got to preface with, you’ll just have to wait and watch us to see the rest! Hwang for Wang!”

Too much cheering as Hyunjin looked over at him, sending him a friendly smile of encouragement as he gestured him to go on. 

The spotlight shut off, and Wonwoo knew any moment now it’d-

The light flooded onto him, and he blinked, realizing that his pale slim form was now highlighted for everyone to see.

But surprisingly, he couldn’t see anyone from here. The lights were so bright that he’d lost the audience.

_“Are we allowed to be here?” Wonwoo asked tentatively, the seventh grader glancing around for teachers._

_“Yeah, no problem. The theater coordinators are really nice and I told them that you guys are my best friends!” Soonyoung clambered onto the stage, dragging Mingyu and Wonwoo along. “Come on. You guys have to see what I see.”_

_The big stage lights were still on, and tech crew were cleaning up the leftover props from the rehearsal._

_Wonwoo joined Mingyu and Soonyoung a few paces away, glancing out past the bright lights of the stage and into the empty seats. To his surprise, he had no visibility of anything past the stage’s apron._

_Mingyu sat down, stretching out his legs. “It’s okay. Not as cool as I thought.”_

_Soonyoung spread his arms wide, beaming out at the empty auditorium. “On opening night, it’s always amazing. Next year, I’ll get the lead part and then you guys will see.”_

_Wonwoo rolled his eyes, sitting down next to Mingyu. “I’m going to watch you fail every consecutive academic exam for the next year in order to prep for auditions, then.”_

_Soonyoung moved to stand right behind them, lightly knocking his knees into Wonwoo’s back until the thin boy made an irritable sound. “I’ll be okay. Where I’m planning on going, there won’t be much education.”_

_“Where’s that, hyung?” Mingyu asked._

_“Broadway,” Soonyoung declared dramatically._

_Wonwoo shook his head. “Unemployed.”_ _  
_ _Soonyoung sat down on Wonwoo’s other side, curling up his legs. “You’re too careful with life, Won. Yeah, I might never make it onto Broadway, but I’ll never know if I don’t try, right?”_

_“I’ll come to all your opening nights, hyung,” Mingyu promised, intertwining his pinky with Soonyoung’s._

_“You’ll go broke,” Wonwoo snickered._

_Soonyoung nudged him playfully. “That’s why we’re friends with you, mister doctor boy. Who’s gonna pay for our little dingy apartments, you think?”_

_Wonwoo gasped. “As if.”_

_“You’d let us go hungry?” Mingyu pouted, latching onto Wonwoo’s arm, Soonyoung mirroring him on the right._

_“Fitting for liberal arts. It really is only for the best of the best.”_

_“You think I’m not the best of the best?” Soonyoung demanded playfully, shoving Wonwoo as he jumped up, dragging Mingyu along as they began to dance around on the stage and sing songs from Soonyoung’s rehearsal._

_Wonwoo tried to keep his face neutral, but he couldn’t help himself from smiling as he listened to the two of them, gazing out at the invisible vastness beyond the blinding lights._

“Mr. Jeon.”

Wonwoo blinked, realizing he was still standing here, still immersed in memories that he couldn’t let himself slip into.

Wonwoo took a shaky breath, glancing out at the unseen audience that he knew was there, just beyond the edge of the stage, hundreds of eyes on him. They were whispering now, snickering a little, at the way he’d frozen up.

And somewhere in that crowd was Mingyu, brimming with support for Hyunjin, and Soonyoung, who definitely wasn’t interested in being his real friend despite however much he pretended.

How had he lost everything?

Wonwoo downed another breath, remembering how Soonyoung always talked about the stage, always revered it.

Wonwoo sure as hell wasn’t Soonyoung, but that wasn’t to say there was nothing he could learn from the older.

_“You’ll always be the best to me, hyung,” Mingyu promised, his eyes shining with admiration. “No matter what.”_

Another breath, this time coming down easier.

_“Come on, Won. I won’t always be around to pick you up.” Soonyoung smiled, his hand reaching down to help Wonwoo back onto his feet._

His hands tightened with determination on the podium’s edges.

“ _I don’t say it much, but I really do look up to you,” Jeongguk confessed, grinning as he hugged Wonwoo. “A lot more than you think I do.”_

Seungcheol prompted him again. “You have thirty seconds to make an introduction, Mr. Jeon.”

Wonwoo adjusted the microphone, his fingers still trembling, but not as badly. 

_“We’re so proud of you, Wonwoo,” his mother said, hugging him tightly. “We’re always going to be proud of you.”_

One last breath, and he began.

•

“Good afternoon, everyone. My name is Jeon Wonwoo and I’m representing team 17 CARAT in this year’s election. My plans are to improve not only social life at Pledis, but also academic and extracurricular opportunities through communication between the student body and our school board. My team and I will serve as the perfect liaison…”

Soonyoung stood crouched next to an auditorium door, pressing his ear to it and mouthing Wonwoo’s opening speech word for word, sighing with relief as the nerve-wracked latter finished impeccably.

He’d been forced to leave before the event even began, taking heed of Jeonghan’s warning that the doors wouldn’t be opened unless for medical emergencies. Soonyoung wasn’t going to fake an aneurysm to get out of there, so he’d taken the cue and left before the debate had commenced. Soonyoung had loitered around in one of the first floor bathrooms as other boys came in and left, and waited until the school sounded quiet enough. He heard a rise of cheering from the auditorium, and that was when he’d snuck back out and taken a few cautious glances before sneaking over to one of the auditorium doors, feeling extremely spy-like as he pressed himself to the door in an effort to ensure that the debate was under way. Thank god that the school was so big that they couldn’t take attendance at these events. 

Soonyoung felt rather sad that he wouldn’t get to watch Wonwoo pull through and deflect hard questions and make his stand for their team, but he had his own job and he had to do it. Wonwoo wouldn’t be disappointed, right? It was surely going to be a blow that Soonyoung wouldn’t hear any of Wonwoo’s answers, but Soonyoung didn’t really have much choice.

Time for some devilish diablerie. 

Grinning, he sprinted across the empty school to where his locker was located, feeling rather excited at the prospect of the whole building being empty- the entire student and teacher population being crammed and locked up in that auditorium. Soonyoung loved it when he had a large amount of space to himself. 

Plugging his earbuds into his phone, he began playing heist music because yes, he was that extra. He dragged the safely-delivered banners out of his locker, deciding he’d start with the science hallway.

Soonyoung arrived at the deserted corridor and grinned down the length of it, opening up the bag and pulling the first banner out, a beautiful black and silver piece of work by Junhui that he could spend a long time staring at. Damn, they’d secured the talent for sure. Hyunjin’s team couldn’t relate.

Smiling satisfiedly, he tacked up the first banner, stringing it along down half the hallway (Junhui hadn’t compensated on size) and making sure it was firmly stuck to the wall before standing back to survey his handiwork.

Good. Perfect. There wasn’t a single person that could walk past the hallway and not catch the stark coloring against the beige walls. 

Soonyoung hitched the bag up his shoulder, checking on the number of banners he had left as he moved down to the language arts hallway.

And was met with a very, very unpleasant surprise.

In bright crimson and gold, a gloss-printed banner read ‘HWANG FOR WANG’ and underneath, ‘HYUNJINISTS UNITE’, flanked by twin Hyunjin pickets that’d been slapped up on either side. 

“Oh, shit,” Soonyoung muttered as the heist music in his ears reached a terrifying climax. “School’s been infiltrated.”

“Right it has,” came a voice from down the other end of the hall, and Soonyoung looked over to find Han Jisung peeking around the corner, a bag full with no doubt more Hyunjin propaganda. “What’re you doing out here, Kwon?”

“Campaigning,” Soonyoung replied, staring Jisung down. Sure, Jisung was the best friend of Soonyoung’s dance best friend, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t the enemy at this precise second. “You?”

Jisung grinned, playful in a way that implied he thought this wasn’t a big deal. What a lie. Han Jisung was one of the most competitive people Soonyoung knew, and he knew himself. “Same idea.”

“Oh, you’re on,” Soonyoung breathed, fully aware that they were two seventeen year olds already breaking school rules by ditching assembly and now challenging each other on their banner-hanging skills. 

Childish?

No. This was war.

“Don’t take any of mine down and I won’t touch yours,” Soonyoung said through gritted teeth.

“Deal. See you around,” Jisung held up his satchel. “Good luck.”

And with a taunting smirk that was tantamount to the shotgun firing at the start of a sprint, Han Jisung was gone.

Soonyoung’s eyes narrowed, and seconds later he was running the opposite direction.

He was not going to lose the best places in the school to Jisung and the Hyunjinists. He had to make his team proud. He had to make Wonwoo proud. 

And with that thought, Kwon Soonyoung fully dedicated himself to furious banner hanging as the clocks in the silent building ticked away.

•

Junhui squirmed again. He couldn’t help it. Too much Korean.

“Stop moving,” Minghao whispered from next to him. They were sitting with Hansol, Jihoon, and Chan. The five of them had found each other in the auditorium shortly before the debate began, and switched around seats with a few people so they could all sit together.

“I don’t understand what they’re saying!” Junhui whispered back.

“I’m not a translating app!” Minghao teased in reply, shifting slightly closer to Junhui within his own chair. 

Junhui sighed, fiddling with his fingers. Hyunjin was talking, and whatever he was saying in answer to his stab at the question that Minghao had whisper-translated to him- _Have you had previous experience in leadership, and how would those handlings of tasks or duties translate to your style of running of our school?_ \- was clearly a good enough response to extract clapping from the crowd. Sana had already answered her question, something about gender roles at school and how she advocated for them, and soon it’d be Wonwoo’s turn. 

Junhui flinched as he felt something come to rest on his shoulder, and glanced down to find a mop of dark hair the only thing in his line of sight.

“I’m sorry,” Minghao mumbled. “I didn’t sleep last night and your shoulder looked really comfortable.”

“It’s fine. Why didn’t you sleep?”

“Studying. My parents are killing me.”

“From everything I’ve heard, I don’t think your parents are the best,” Junhui frowned, then immediately regretted it, because that was a line that it wasn’t his business to cross.

To his surprise, Minghao merely shrugged. “They’re not.”

“It’s okay,” Junhui found himself saying. “You’ve always got me.” And before he knew it, he’d joined their hands, lacing his fingers through Minghao’s in an attempt to be comforting. Lightly squeezing Minghao’s hand, Junhui shot him a smile as Minghao lurched up, staring at him. 

Minghao sat up, pulling away as if he’d been burned, his face a tomato shade as he adjusted his position to stare straight ahead.

“Sorry,” Junhui said hastily, feeling equally embarrassed. “I didn’t mean- I just- I-”

“No, don’t worry about it,” Minghao said, swallowing hard. “I just- I don’t like people touching me.”

“I know,” Junhui said, feeling shameful. “It’s my fault. I’m really sorry.”

Minghao swallowed again. “It’s Wonwoo’s turn now. We should pay attention.”

Yet by the time that Junhui had managed to turn his attention properly to the stage, Wonwoo had already finished answering the question and it was Sana’s turn again.

And when Wonwoo’s turn came again, five or six minutes later, Junhui turned to ask Minghao what Wonwoo had been asked, planning to use that as a segway out of the awkward tension between them, only to find him fast asleep on Hansol’s shoulder instead. 

Hansol saw him looking, interpreted Junhui’s miserable expression as a worried one, and mouthed a simple ‘I’ve got him’ while drawing an arm around Minghao.

It did nothing to make Junhui feel any better, so he merely looked back at the stage and let himself fall into that quiet space inside his mind where nobody could bother him.

•

It was nearly his turn again.

Wonwoo felt slightly more confident after the question about leadership, he’d spoken about how he’d lead tutoring for struggling students for the last few summers. It’d seemed to be something that’d caught the audience’s attention, for he’d sensed a quiet yet invested atmosphere in the area past the stage. After explaining how his tasks as the leader of the program helped him delegate responsibilities as well as help and cater to the needs of fellow students, he realized that it wasn’t too hard to talk.

Being the last person on stage was also helpful, for he had a little bit extra time to think about his answers as Sana and Hyunjin responded.

The question that Hyunjin was currently wrapping up was, “What have you found to be the difficult part of being a part of any team? How did you handle this?” 

And then the spotlight was off and soon it’d be his turn. 

Cue lights and the sense of his hands breaking out in a sweat. This first section, targeted at a candidate’s previous experience rather than their current plans for the school, were things that Jihoon’s notes couldn’t help him with. He had to get by on his own.

Good thing that Jeon Wonwoo, despite being awkward at public speaking, was a whiz at making simple things sound articulate and elaborately thought out.

“There are, of course several aspects to teamwork,” Wonwoo started smoothly. “Both as being a leader and working with others to make sure that tasks are carried out, as well as being an active member of any team and project- you have responsibilities that need to be performed and it can be hard if those are not completed. I rather think that in the stead of leadership and member participation, the hardest aspect of being part of a team is the teamwork itself. I strongly believe that the teamwork is worthless if there is no motivation or friendship between the members themselves. This can be held true in every sense of teamwork- whether it be a work collaboration with colleagues or a musical group preparing for a performance. This definitely is resonated in my own committee group. It hasn’t always been smooth sailing, but we’ve had to eradicate those boundary lines between us and work together to not only promote our campaign but to also become close- as friends. That’s how we handled it- working to find each other rather than just the end goal of our campaign.” Wonwoo swallowed the lump in his throat. It didn’t matter that it wasn’t a hundred percent true, he was just saying this in accord with Jihoon’s tip to always bring the answer back to Wonwoo’s personal expertise, assets, or the campaign. “The teamwork that we execute to bring you a flawless campaign is of course never perfectly smooth behind the scenes. That’s an appeal of supporting us- you’ll see the pretty parts and the real parts too. We show what real teamwork looks like, we show you all the strengths of our bond and the places where it fails too.” 

A few seconds of silence as students made sure he was done, and then clapping- strong clapping- echoed back at him, sounding approving and intrigued. 

Wonwoo relaxed as the light went off of him, flickering once more onto Seungcheol and Jeonghan as the next question rolled on. Hopefully Soonyoung had heard that answer. And hopefully Mingyu hadn’t. 

And so it went.

•

Mingyu was sandwiched between Seokmin and Seungkwan, and he’d really rather be anywhere else.

Seungkwan kept glancing at him, and Mingyu didn’t know why. Was Seungkwan actually concerned about him, actually worried about Mingyu watching Wonwoo on stage and feeling like shit? That’d be a first. Someone actually cared behind the words they said.

Seokmin was slumped slightly in his seat, the questions apparently not proving interesting enough to have kept his attention secured after the initial ten minutes. He was scuffing his shoes against the floor, fiddling with the end of his tie. 

“Can you stop moving?” Mingyu whispered. He was usually the squirmy one.

“It’s so boring,” Seokmin exhaled.

Mingyu glanced back to the stage, glad that the spotlight was not on Wonwoo anymore. Bright lights made Wonwoo a little dizzy. That stupid stage crew team should ask people how the lighting levels were and if anyone needed modifications. Was it that hard?

Mingyu shook his head. He was not supposed to be worrying about Wonwoo. That was Soonyoung’s problem now.

Fine, completely fine. 

He snorted. Soonyoung was probably waiting offstage for Wonwoo to give him a big hug and kiss after his stupid debate stage was over. The very thought made his blood boil, and he sighed as he sunk a little lower in his seat, his knees hitting the back of the seat in front of him. He was supposed to be the cute peaceful one. Not the one that suddenly turned yandere and went violent on his best friend’s new best friend. 

Ryujin- for that was the person sitting in front of him with all her friends (how lucky)- turned around in her seat, beaming back at him and mouthing ‘you okay?’

Mingyu nodded wearily, trying not to cringe when she blew him a kiss and turned back to the front. She didn’t need to check up on him. He wasn’t a child. 

Although he did feel like a child right now, because he just wanted to go and scream at Wonwoo and tear up his things and shove him and be a horrible person for once. If only he could just be completely horrible for a few minutes, it’d be such a better way of letting off the steam built up inside instead of just slipping it out here and there, which had resulted in what he was sure was a miserable week for anyone who was close to him. 

Mingyu closed his eyes. He wanted to be horrible to Wonwoo, but he knew that deep down he was only forcing himself to want that. All the way at the bottom, where a tiny metaphorical seed had lodged into Mingyu’s heart, where it’d flowered into something poisonous and insane and dangerously desiring over the last year, over the last year when Mingyu had stopped seeing Wonwoo as just another friend- all the way down there, Mingyu knew he wanted to run into Wonwoo’s arms and be held and be told that it was okay, that Wonwoo liked him more than Soonyoung, that maybe Wonwoo thought more of him than he did for anyone else, that Wonwoo-

Mingyu didn’t let himself think about that because when he did, he always went all the way down the stem of that poisonous insane flower to its root and tangled himself up in all those impossible possibilities.

So he kept his eyes closed, even as the first section finished up, Wonwoo answering every question promptly and smartly, Mingyu noticing every nervous tell in Wonwoo’s voice yet unable to do anything from here.

And by the time that the second section had commenced and the candidates were using their one minute to each answer questions about what kind of changes they’d make to the school, Mingyu’s tired mind had ordered him to rest.

Dimly, he registered his head falling onto Seungkwan’s shoulder, but he let it stay there, even feeling Seungkwan stiffen against him. Damn, his shoulder was comfy. Mingyu could lay here a lot longer than on Wonwoo’s- although he preferred Wonwoo’s, it was a bit boney for his liking and his cheek always hurt after napping at Wonwoo’s side. He’d have to schedule some more naps next to Seungkwan in future.

Mingyu waited a few seconds, but Seungkwan didn’t push him off, instead sinking a little lower in the seat so Mingyu had the backing to rest his head against as well, apparently Seungkwan’s way of signaling that he was okay with Mingyu taking some rest here.

Satisfied, Mingyu allowed the world to go black.

•

Joshua popped his bubblegum, grinning at the irritable girl sitting next to him. “What?”

Giving him a look of disgust, she glanced back up at the stage. 

Joshua shrugged, looking directly up too. He’d picked a seat at the front of the crowd, just so he could grin up at Jeonghan every now and then and get Seungcheol’s blood pressure up a few notches. 

Yeah. He’d decided to go all out. 

Who cared really? He was here against his wishes, anyway. He’d make as much chaos as possible before his parents pulled him out. Maybe if he provoked Seungcheol to punch him he’d be immediately called for back to America. His mother hated violence and was scared of Joshua getting bullied- every phone call so far had consisted of her questioning him about the other kids at school. 

He needed something impulsive and stupid to happen, and Choi Seungcheol seemed like he’d break into impulsive and stupid under enough anger and frustration. Joshua just had to cross the line, and yeah that line seemed to go pretty deep, but he’d be damned if he wouldn’t find it and put every toe he had over it. Even if it earned him a few nice bruises. Even better. He hoped he’d bruise so that he could use the evidence to get Seungcheol expelled or suspended from Pledis before his parents sent for him. 

Yes, he was aware he was acting like a little child that had been denied a toy. But he couldn’t help it. How exactly were you supposed to react when your parents just kicked you to another country? They hadn’t even tried talking to him about the vapes, and honestly if they’d tried to put him into rehab or therapy for the vapes he’d probably have gone. It was like they were just waiting for the perfect reason to throw him out. 

Joshua had never been a bad kid, he’d always gone to church with his parents since he was little despite his inner disregard and apathy for religion. Even when he went out to house parties with his friends, he always cleaned himself up as best as he could before coming home. Yeah, he broke curfew, drank, and vaped, but those were things all Cali boys did. 

He couldn’t help himself from thinking that no matter what he did his parents still wouldn’t want him. They never gushed about him to other parents back when he used to live in the States, they never bragged about him or expressed any interest in the things he liked. Joshua used to love to write and play sports, but those things had become dull once he realized his parents were too busy to even care what he was into. So then he’d taken up other hobbies, mainly ones that involved bottle openers and vape pods. 

Since he was a kid, Joshua Hong had never felt any compassion coming from his parents beyond the required minimum that parents were supposed to give their children. Sure, his mother doted him, and his dad was always asking him about his academics, but those things didn’t count for much against all the neglect they’d pushed into the barrier between him and them. 

They never wanted him, he’d been a mistake in the first place, and now they’d finally taken their chance and kicked him out. Yes, he was bitter, and yes, rightly so.

Crossing one leg over another, he caught Jeonghan’s eyes again- the stage lights were bright, and it was hard for the people onstage to see anyone in the audience, precisely why Joshua had positioned himself primly here, knowing Jeonghan would see him. Because whenever Jeonghan saw him, Jeonghan took too long to look away.

Joshua had a lot of things he was supposed to be doing- his mother had reminded him to study for the CSAT taking place later this November, which Koreans usually took as juniors, similar to America’s SAT. When transferring over, Joshua had the option of converting his SAT scores to a CSAT one, but it’d been such a shitty score that he’d decided to just cut it and have a take two with the CSAT- even though he’d be the only senior in the testing room. Oh well. If this went worse than the SAT, he’d just submit those scores to colleges instead. He wasn’t exactly sure how long his parents expected him to stay here- the original plan had been a year but it seemed like they were having a good time without him.

Joshua gulped. They wouldn’t make him go to college here, right? Four more years? If that was the case, he felt an even stronger urgency to actually sit down and study instead of spending all his free time daydreaming about Jeonghan and being an asshole towards Seungcheol. 

Anyway, there were many responsibilities in line to complete, but Joshua was set on homewrecking first. 

A soft sigh, and he popped his gum again, sending a dirty look this time to the girl when she gave him a face. He was in a foul mood now. She hadn’t been shipped halfway across the world and dumped in some shit place to go to some shit school with shit people. She could deal with him popping his gum for a while. Damn.

Rolling his eyes, Joshua chose to glare at Seungcheol, who wasn’t looking at him anyway. Still, it gave him some sense of pleasure, because he had to admit that Choi Seungcheol was very good looking, and if Joshua didn’t hate him so much he’d definitely be in love with him too. 

Joshua huffed a soft laugh. In love with both Yoon Jeonghan and Choi Seungcheol? As if.

•

Jihoon was trying as best as possible to write in the near darkness of the audience seats. 

Wonwoo was currently discussing how he’d like to do polling and other surveys with the student body regarding poor curriculum in several classes, something that Jihoon had made sure to put in Wonwoo’s notes for when he was onstage. 

As Wonwoo’s debate preparation advisor, Jihoon was responsible for also teaching Wonwoo how to conduct himself onstage in the way most beneficial for their campaign- therefore he was trying his best to make a transcript of exactly what Wonwoo was saying in order to give pointers and improve Wonwoo’s speech patterns and habits to sound more professional.

It was getting harder and harder to actually see in the dark, and Jihoon winced to himself, knowing that his lettering was surely getting off the lines of the paper. Dammit.

He’d appreciate some help, but he was sitting between Hansol and Chan, who were both mindlessly staring off at the stage, probably past listening. Minghao was asleep on Hansol’s other side, Junhui watching for some reason unhappily. Jihoon would have to do this himself, he supposed. 

Jihoon squinted, trying (and failing) to regain some semblance of organization on the paper. Giving up yet again, he began to start scrawling all over the paper, deciding that he’d just work with Wonwoo on whatever jotted down notes he’d done his best to get down. 

•

Soonyoung glanced at the time. It was the last section- Wonwoo would now be answering questions from the student body that’d been submitted during the short five minute break between sections two and three.

This portion of the debate was shortest, only fifteen minutes. That meant that each candidate would get about three or four questions with two minute time limits on them. 

That also meant that he only had fifteen remaining minutes to get the rest of the banners up.

Soonyoung gasped as he shot up- he’d been taking a short break, sitting down against a wall and drinking some water. 

There was one place that’d secure them the most airtime.

With that, Soonyoung was off like a bullet, rushing for the overhanging long strip of wall above the auditorium doors. The auditorium was sectioned right off of the main foyer that the students came in and out of at the start of each day, so that meant that if Soonyoung could snatch a ladder and scale the seven or something feet to the wall strip he’d get the poster up there for everyone to look at each day as they entered and exited school. 

Soonyoung rushed into the arts hallway, knowing that there were maintenance ladders kept in the frequently unlocked stow room next to the painting room. He grabbed the first one he saw and lugged it across a good part of the school, wincing each time it scraped against the floor. He didn’t care. He was getting that spot.

Unfortunately, it seemed he wasn’t the only one with that idea.

“Little bit late,” Jisung smirked, from where he was hanging up one side of a Hwang For Wang poster. He was already standing on a ladder on one side of the hallway, taping up the poster that was currently hanging from the wall. Soonyoung assumed that if he’d been a few seconds late, Jisung would’ve already moved his ladder across to the other end of the hallway’s width and been tacking up the other side of his team’s poster.

“Late? I don’t know what you mean,” Soonyoung snickered, dragging his ladder to the empty space on the other side. 

“What are you doing?” Jisung hissed. “I already claimed this spot.”  
“Really? Your name’s not on it,” Soonyoung said, reeling their banner from his bag and making sure to take up the right side of it- it wouldn't make much sense upside down or backwards. He’d just tape up the left side after he convinced Jisung to take their poster off. 

“Take it off!” Jisung said loudly, timing his protest with the cheers that erupted from the auditorium, Hyunjin having no doubt delivered another stunning answer.

“Make me!” Soonyoung cackled, taping up the right end of his poster. 

“You-”

“There were no rules about whoever could get their poster up first! I’ll just tape mine over yours!” Soonyoung laughed.

“That’s not fair!”

“Not as fair as you telling Hyunjin to weasel secrets about our campaign out of me during dance practice?” 

Jisung flushed, no doubt embarrassed at the reminder that everyone had heard that during the dance. “You shut up.”

“Make me,” Soonyoung smirked yet again.

Jisung, now red faced, grabbed onto his ladder with one hand and lobbed his rolled up bag at Soonyoung, who ducked, holding tightly to his ladder as he straightened again.

“Excuse me?” Soonyoung exclaimed, once again timing the yell with the clapping from the auditorium. “Nobody throws shit at me and gets away with it.”

This being said, he threw his own bag at Jisung, who similarly moved out of the way. Having had it, Jisung pulled one of the yardsticks that the janitors had taped to the ladder for measurement and began reaching across the space, waving it around in an attempt to unseat Soonyoung from his ladder. “Just let me hang my poster here, Kwon!”

“You have way more posters than we do, let us put ours here!” Soonyoung leveled an identical yardstick, clutching onto his ladder with one hand as he locked the long ruler with Jisung’s. 

“Well, sorry we got here fi- AH!” 

The next second, both of them found themselves on their backs on the floor, having crashed down they’d both slipped down their ladders. 

“Ow,” Soonyoung moaned, sitting up and grabbing his back. “That’s the second time I’ve fallen off of something in the last few days.”

“You okay?” Jisung panted, straightening likewise and abandoning his bout of dedication to outstretch a hand at Soonyoung, who accepted it gratefully, getting to his feet. 

“Yeah. You?”

“I’m alright.”

They glanced up at the posters, which were now each taped at one end- the left of Hyunjin’s, and the right end of Wonwoo’s, the other ends of each falling to the floor. Combined, the contents on the wall spelled out the most hilarious message in two obviously different fonts. 

Soonyoung chuckled. 

Jisung glared at him, then glanced at the wall, his expression changing as he suppressed a smile. 

“Come on, it looks funny as hell,” Soonyoung giggled, and then they were both laughing, sinking to the floor as they relived the last few minutes.

Cheering swelled again, yet it sounded like more than just half the school.

It sounded like the whole student body. 

Jisung raised his head, looking worried. “Wait.”

Soonyoung checked the time. 

It was three.

Just as they realized this, the bell rang ostentatiously and a rumbling sound started from the auditorium, no doubt the hundreds of students rushing to the doors, which would burst open any second-

Jisung and Soonyoung glanced at each other worriedly just as the aforementioned doors slammed open.

Students flooded out into the empty main hallway, finding a pair of service ladders flanking each side of the end of the hallway, above them a very, very confusing poster, messily tacked up and undone at the center ends. 

‘HWANG FOR 17 CARAT’

Conflicting messages indeed. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> augh i’m back!! 
> 
> again, apologies for the long wait!! i’ve already mentioned this but this academic year is very crucial for my future so i am putting a bit more time into it and writing has been pushed slightly out of focus. thanks for being patient with me!!
> 
> please leave comments as they inspire and motivate me (and it’s super fun to see your reactions!)
> 
> tell someone you love them today!! i love all of you, once again thanks for reading and coming this far 
> 
> <3  
> -mingyuwu


	31. 29. broken dams and unveiled plans

“So you’re saying you didn’t hear any of it?” Wonwoo asked, disappointed. 

“Who’s on the phone?” Jeongguk sniped from the doorway.

Wonwoo covered the receiver, rolling over in his bed and glancing over. “Nobody you should care about.”

“Tell Jeongguk I said hi!” Soonyoung yelled through the phone.

“Hi!” Jeongguk called back, then gave Wonwoo a look as he closed the door.

Wonwoo sighed, lounging back onto his bed and staring up at the ceiling. “Where was I?”

It was Wednesday, two days after Monday’s debate. He hadn’t seen Soonyoung at school yesterday, on account of Soonyoung apparently straining his back after some sort of stunt involving a ladder and a poster. Junhui and Jihoon had dropped a message congratulating him and telling him they’d see him today- it was a school holiday and they’d planned to go out for bubble tea. 

“At the part where you were sad I didn’t hear any of your answers,” Soonyoung provided helpfully.

“Right.” Wonwoo held the phone closer to his ear. “You didn’t hear any?”

“Sadly, no. It sounded like they really wouldn’t let anyone out halfway so I had to leave right at the beginning.”

“And the whole school was empty except for you and Jisung,” Wonwoo sighed. Soonyoung had texted him yesterday, explaining why Hyunjin’s posters were already up as well. Wonwoo couldn’t believe that they’d also planned to put up their posters on the same day at the same time, but it seemed like the kind of idea that Hyunjin would have too. It wasn’t like their idea had been stolen, they hadn’t written it down anywhere and hadn’t really discussed it too much so the chance of ‘inspiring’ Hyunjin’s plan was low. Unfortunate coincidences. 

“Yeah. And then we fell off our ladders because I was trying to be nice and get you a prime spot.”

Wonwoo rolled his eyes. “Okay, you big baby. You said you were fine yesterday.”

“Well that was yesterday. Now the pain’s set in more. I think my tailbone is broken.”

“You’d know if your tailbone was broken.”

“I won’t be able to dance for another week at least until the aching’s gone. And you’re coming at me for not hearing your answers, which by the way I’m sure were perfect?” Soonyoung whined. Wonwoo could nearly imagine the stupid pout on Soonyoung’s lips. “It hurts to even get out of bed. I lied to my mother that some kids pushed me out of the way as people were leaving the auditorium. She has no idea what I even did. Today I convinced her and dad to go to work, but I’m dying here. I already took an advil, too.”

“Alright, I’m sorry,” Wonwoo sighed. “I’d come over and check on you, but Jihoon and Junhui are coming over soon-”

A honk from outside. 

“They’re here,” Wonwoo confirmed, peeking outside to see Junhui’s Mercedes parked in the driveway. “We’re going out for a bit and getting drinks at the bubble tea place, I have to drop Jeongguk off at Taehyung’s for a school project too so we’re using up Junhui’s fuel for that.”

Soonyoung made a strangled sound of disappointment. “You guys are getting boba without me?”

“Well, you can’t exactly stroll around the mall, can you?”

“Point taken.” A soft whine. “Won…”

“What do you want me to buy for you?” Wonwoo sighed, grabbing his wallet as he headed downstairs, mouthing to Jeongguk that it was time to go and waving to his mother as he put his shoes on.

“An extra large matcha tea with tapioca and coffee jelly, medium ice and 50% sugar.”

Wonwoo scoffed, holding his phone to his ear and pulling his jacket on. “Do I look like a waiter to you?”

Soonyoung was definitely sticking his tongue out at him on the other end of the phone. “Fine. See you at school tomorrow.”

“You’ll be at school?” Wonwoo asked dubiously, motioning Jeongguk to zip up his coat and staring hard at him as the younger made a face and did as he asked. 

“Yeah. Can’t miss too much.”

“If you feel like your back’s going to split open just on the way to the bathroom, I don’t see how you can get through a whole day.”

“Well-”

“Shut up and rest. I’ll bring you notes.”

“You’re a godsend.”

“Yeah, whatever.” Wonwoo headed out after Jeongguk, closing the door. “I gotta go now.”

“Bye, Won,” Soonyoung lamented, and he cut the line.

“What were you guys talking about?” Jeongguk asked, trailing after Wonwoo down the driveway to where Junhui had parked.

“Nothing.” 

“Was it about your debate performance?” Jeongguk laughed. “Because actually, you were pretty good.”

Wonwoo sent him a look. “Like you were listening.”

“I didn’t say I was listening,” Jeongguk snickered. “But Jimin said it was good. Taehyung and I were playing hang man on our notebooks.”

“Such brotherly love,” Wonwoo said, opening the car’s back door. “Jihoon, you’re getting a friend.”

Jeongguk smiled at Jihoon, clambering into the back. “Hi! I’m Jeongguk! I’m Wonwoo’s brother-”

“This is your brother? Why’s he so loud?” Jihoon asked Wonwoo, scooting over for Jeongguk to climb inside. 

Wonwoo sighed, getting into the passenger seat. “I’ve been asking myself for seventeen years. Junhui, we’ve got to drop Jeongguk at his friend’s house on the way, if that’s alright.”

Junhui nodded and promptly accelerated out of the driveway at a speed that probably wasn’t advisable, turning onto the main street. 

“Do you have your license yet?” Wonwoo asked Junhui. “Your Korean license. You were going to change your documentation and get your Chinese one switched, right? Did you do that yet?”

Junhui giggled. “No.”

Wonwoo sighed and leaned back in his seat. “Well, today’s as good a day as any to get arrested, then.”

“How’s Soonyoung?” Jihoon asked. 

“He’s fine. Still complaining about his back.”

“Soonyoung is so nice,” Junhui said cheerfully. 

“Yeah, well, nobody asked him to go and do some acrobatics on a ladder for me,” Wonwoo said exasperatedly. 

Junhui nodded, clearly not having understood that sentence. Wonwoo deflated slightly, chuckling at the clueless expression on the handsome boy’s face. He reached over, lightly patting Junhui’s shoulder. “Don’t worry about it.” 

With Jeongguk’s instructions, they pulled into Taehyung’s driveway a few streets over, and after bidding the younger boy goodbye, they began the drive to the mall. 

“Cat pen mall,” Junhui remarked as they parked, getting out and crossing the street to the department store.

“It sure is,” Jihoon agreed, hefting the notebook in his arms as they walked in. “And I’m not a fan of sugar but the bubble tea place here is so good.”

“What’s the notebook for?” Wonwoo asked. 

“I wrote down your speech transcripts. Just so that we can really analyze and improve.”

Impressed, Wonwoo nodded. “We’ll look over it in the cafe, then.”

They walked through the mall for some time, peeking through the windows of several stores on their way to the tea shop. 

“Right, here we are,” Wonwoo said as they walked in through the open doors. It was a homey cafe, soft music playing over the speakers and the air smelling fragrant and sweet. 

“I’ll pay,” Junhui said earnestly as they walked up to the line, observing the menu plastered above the counter.

“No, Jun, you paid last time for the pens,” Wonwoo deflected automatically. “I’ll pay.”

Junhui whined. “I’m being nice!”

“I’ll pay,” Wonwoo said firmly.

“Wonwoo-”

“It’s only fair, you paid last time!”

“Oh, you two stop,” Jihoon said exasperatedly, squeezing between them and standing on his tiptoes to see the menu. “I’ll pay.”

“But-” both Wonwoo and Junhui started.

“I’ll pay!” Jihoon rocked back on his heels, settling on the ground once more. “Come on, it’s our turn.”

Junhui looked slightly more nervous at delivering his order in a language he wasn’t fully confident in, and Wonwoo picked up on it as Jihoon moved towards the counter. 

“I’ll order for you,” Wonwoo assured him, earning a look of gratitude as Junhui murmured his order to him. “Oh?” Wonwoo grinned at him. “We’re getting the same thing.” He clapped Junhui on the shoulder before moving off, arriving at the counter next to Jihoon. 

“I’ll have a small taro milk tea with lychee tapioca, 25% sugar,” Jihoon was requesting. The barista nodded, glancing at Wonwoo. 

“Can I have two orders of watermelon smoothie with tapioca add on?” Wonwoo asked, thanking Jihoon once more as the other paid. 

They met back up with Junhui after securing their drinks, Wonwoo smiling as he clinked drinks with the similarly grinning Chinese boy.

“My taste,” Junhui laughed, taking a sip happily. “Let’s sit.”

They took occupation of a table close to the cafe entrance, smiling whenever good looking people walked by and ducking their heads to avoid students from school that were walking past the shop. 

“So anyway,” Jihoon said after they’d all temporarily sated themselves on bubble tea, pulling out his notebook and setting it on the table. “Here. These are the transcripts from your speeches.”

Wonwoo tried not to laugh as he opened the notebook. He’d never seen Jihoon’s handwriting so messy. The words were all over the page. “What happened?”

“Writing in darkness happened.” Jihoon clicked his pen, which looked familiar-

“Cat pen!” Junhui said happily, pointing at it. “You still have?”

“Of course I do,” Jihoon said confusedly. “Why wouldn’t I?”

Junhui beamed, clearly happy with that answer. Wonwoo spared a smile, busy poring over the barely legible notes. 

“Overall, your speaking style is really good. You don’t use many filler words and you tended to stay in academic diction, which is obviously ideal for this kind of presentation. I just wanted to say that in some places you happened to repeat yourself, which isn’t directly noticeable but will be if you continue to do so. Here and here-” Jihoon leaned across the table, circling and drawing arrows to some paragraphs. “If you look over these for a few minutes you’ll see what I mean.”

Wonwoo nodded, sitting in quiet as he pored over the page, Junhui looking over his shoulder. 

Finally he raised his head to an expectant Jihoon, and nodded uncertainly.

“What?” Jihoon asked.

Wonwoo huffed a laugh. “I’m really sorry. I spent the last ten minutes just trying to decipher your handwriting. And I still couldn’t get it.”

Jihoon sighed, biting his lip as he leaned back in his seat. “I know. It’s so hard to write when it’s all dark, and I would’ve used the light off my phone but it might have drawn attention, seeing as everything else is nearly pitch black where we were sitting. There has to be a better way…”

“Listen!” Junhui said suddenly, repeating it once more, looking at them impatiently as he waited for them to get it.

“What?” Wonwoo looked around, wondering if Junhui was telling them to take notice of someone they knew sitting close by. “Nobody else is sitting near us, though?”

“No,” Junhui said frustratedly, clearly bothered by the language limitation. “You… listen… after!”

“Try showing us?” Jihoon asked. 

Junhui sat in silence for a second, then lit up and pulled out his phone, opening it and putting it on the table, opening the voice recording app and jabbing his finger excitedly at it. “Listen… after!”

Jihoon’s jaw dropped. “You’re a genius!”

“I still don’t get it,” Wonwoo said truthfully.

“He’s saying that during the next debate, I just record you talking so that we can review it later without me having to write it down word for word!”

Wonwoo grinned. “That’s… it _is_ genius.” He rubbed Junhui’s back. “Thanks.”

Junhui clinked drinks with him again, sending him a cheery wink and taking a sip. “Always.”

“Yes, always,” Jihoon said amusedly. “This is why Junhui is our golden asset.”

Wonwoo nodded in agreement. “We’ll make sure to record my parts in the next debate. Overall, did I do okay?”

“It was really good,” Junhui assured him. “I was proud.”

“I think you did super well too,” Jihoon said. “You sounded like a natural.”

“Good,” Wonwoo sighed in relief as they stood, Jihoon putting the messy scrawls away. Their drinks were sipped down to the dregs now, but Wonwoo couldn’t believe that it was already time to go. He was actually having fun with the other two. 

Wonwoo didn’t have to worry about leaving so soon, though. 

Junhui began pointing like mad as soon as they exited the shop, gesturing to something he’d seen a bit farther off. 

“What’s that?” Jihoon squinted. “Oh, the mall carousel?”

Junhui nodded eagerly, grabbing them both by the wrists and dragging them enthusiastically over.

“Jun, it’s not as cool as it looks,” Wonwoo said exasperatedly. “It’s just a mall merry-go-round for little kids, it doesn’t even go fast or anything. We can go to the game arcade or-”

“Carousel,” Junhui grumbled as they arrived at the back of the line teeming with little kids on their day off from school. He firmly planted his feet and glared at the two of them. “We go. Fun.”

“I am not riding that, you two go ahead,” Jihoon declared. 

“Fine,” Wonwoo said wearily. “I’ll go pay the fee, come on Junhui. We have to get tickets to ride it.”

Junhui trailed after him as Wonwoo walked over to the carousel booth.

“You two want to ride the carousel?” The man behind the counter asked, making a slightly dubious face. “It’s for little kids, you know.”

“Two tickets, please,” Wonwoo said coldly, already not liking the vendor. Just because he could call Junhui a little kid didn’t mean that some random stranger could. Rude ass.

“There’s a height restriction,” the vendor sucked in his lips. “So sorry.” He smirked. 

Wonwoo clenched his jaw. “There’s no height restriction.”

“Wonwoo, what’s happening?” Junhui whispered to him.

“Shh.” Wonwoo turned back to the vendor. “Look, can you just give us two tickets? My friend really wants to ride it.”

“I’m _so_ sorry. Your little baby friend will have to find somewhere else to play. Maybe the childcare center. We’re all out. Next!” 

Junhui looked utterly confused as Wonwoo, still furious, wrapped an arm around Junhui and led him off. 

“What did he say? Why not?” Junhui asked worriedly as Wonwoo guided him back to where Jihoon was standing, watching on confusedly.

“Don’t worry about it, buddy. We’ll go do something else. Some people are just like that.” Wonwoo shook his head, still wanting to go back and sink his fist in that man’s face. That was what Soonyoung would do if he was here. Dear gods, if Soonyoung was here he would’ve leapt through the small window and demolished that man. Carousels weren’t just for little kids and there was nothing wrong with Junhui just wanting to have fun. Why on earth were some people so stuck up?

“What happened?” Jihoon questioned as the three of them fell into step. 

“Stupid bastard got all judgemental on poor Jun,” Wonwoo muttered, speaking with a nonstandard dialect to avoid Junhui picking any of it up. “I can’t believe people like that exist.”

Junhui, although not having understood the words of the exchange with the vendor nor Wonwoo’s dialect-laden explanation to Jihoon, seemed to have gotten the gist of it, and had now drooped slightly as he walked between them, scuffing his feet on the floor with each step.

Wonwoo sighed. Junhui didn’t deserve that.

His eyes landed on something else and he considered momentarily, then nudged Junhui. “Hey. Wanna go play bumper cars with me?”

Junhui, still sulking from the rude vendor, seemed momentarily disinterested, and gave a shrug of agreement- although Wonwoo knew that as soon Junhui got into the seat of one of those cars he’d be beaming again.

“Come on,” Wonwoo said, having taken Junhui’s small movement as enthusiastic consent. “It’ll be fun.” 

Jihoon smiled at him, apparently approving of Wonwoo’s effort to cheer Junhui up. “I’ll just watch, I’m not a fan of bumper cars and they’re two-person anyway.”

“Now what would you have done if Soonyoung was here and wanted someone to go with?” Wonwoo tsked.

Jihoon rolled his eyes. “I’m not getting into any sort of space with Soonyoung that would confine me from escaping at the moment I felt like it.”

“Yeah, sure,” Wonwoo snickered. “You’d take pity on him as soon as he started pouting.”

“At least let me try to keep my tsundere reputation up for a bit.”

Wonwoo rolled his eyes, dragging Junhui off to the lines.

Five minutes later, Junhui was excitedly buckling himself in the driver’s seat of the small car, Wonwoo sitting rather uncomfortably next to him with his long legs slightly scrunched up in the cramped space.

“No language necessary,” Junhui explained, giving the wheel a turn as he glanced around at the riders in the seven other cars within the enclosed space. “Just yelling.”

Wonwoo laughed, having taken a second to understand. “Yeah! No language barrier in bumper cars.”

“Go hard,” Junhui nodded solemnly as the strip light lining the area turned green and the cars unlocked. 

Wonwoo gulped and clutched his seat. Junhui was scary enough driving a normal car under the rules of the road. 

They played half a dozen rounds, Junhui cackling happily as he smashed into any other car that even came close, plowing through the other tiny vehicles and spinning the wheel like a devil. Wonwoo found himself laughing too as he watched Junhui so happy in his element- although slightly amused that this was Junhui’s element. That childlike, sweetly innocent charm of Wen Junhui was something that Wonwoo’s mind never let him forget, and he found himself thinking of Junhui’s delicate giggle here and there almost daily. 

Finally they stumbled out of the car arcade, Wonwoo paying up as they headed dizzily over to where Jihoon waited.

“How was it?” Jihoon asked as they made their way back around to leave through the doors they’d entered from. “Had fun?”

“Fun,” Junhui agreed, sending Wonwoo another grateful smile. Wonwoo grinned back, pausing as they passed the tea shop once more.

“Hold on…”

“What now?” Jihoon sighed. “I’ve got a paper to write, come on, we gotta get home.”

“I’ll only be a second.” With that, Wonwoo ducked inside the shop, arriving back out minutes later holding a large green drink. 

“You’re gonna drink that?” Jihoon snickered. “Have fun on your sugar high.”

“You’d be insane to even think that I’m consuming this,” Wonwoo said brusquely as they headed out to the parking lot, walking around aimlessly as they tried to locate Junhui’s car.

“Who is it for?” Junhui asked as they got inside, revving up the engine.

“Drive me to Soonyoung’s house.”

That was enough to warrant a laugh from Junhui and a mumble of ‘secret lovers’ from Jihoon.

“Oh, stop,” Wonwoo sighed. “I feel bad for him, is all. Must you make everything a rom-com?”

“It’s just rom. No com because you are drier than a twig in the middle of winter and it’d take hours of pointless effort to squeeze some humor out of you,” Jihoon bickered back, smiling mischievously. 

Wonwoo rolled his eyes. “Junhui, drive so fast you make him sick after you drop me off.”

Jihoon laughed. “He can try.”

Fifteen minutes later, they were outside Soonyoung’s house, and Wonwoo stepped out of the idling car, bidding the other two farewell before making his way to the front door as Junhui drove off. 

He rang the bell and waited a while, upon receiving nothing in reply he opened the screen door and knocked a few times.

Sighing, Wonwoo dragged himself over to the garage and flipped up the lid over the garage code box, pondering the keypad as he thought about what Soonyoung’s house code would be. Knowing the Kwons, they probably hadn’t changed it from what Wonwoo recalled it to be a few years ago-

Pushing down on the numbers for Mrs. Kwon’s birthday, Wonwoo clicked his tongue in satisfaction as the garage door began to slowly open, the familiar rustic sound of the door pulling upward accompanied with each creak and rumble that Wonwoo knew so well. He probably shouldn’t be remembering what Soonyoung’s garage door sounded like, but he had a good memory and he’d spent a lot of time here for a good portion of his life. 

Wonwoo headed inside, making sure to close the garage door behind as he ventured into the house, taking off his shoes in their laundry room and stepping into the kitchen, putting the drink down on the counter. “Soonyoung!”

Nothing.

Grumbling, Wonwoo peeked into the living room to see if Soonyoung was lounging around on the couch before heading upstairs.

“Soon- oh,” Wonwoo completed softly as he happened upon Soonyoung’s open doorway, finding Soonyoung sprawled on his bed, fast asleep. 

“Of course, you’re resting,” Wonwoo reasoned, walking over and stiffly standing by the bed, poking Soonyoung’s arm. “Soonyoung. I brought you something. Wake up.”

Soonyoung whined in reply to the feeling of Wonwoo rousing him, twisting around in the sheets as he pushed Wonwoo’s hand away.

“The ice is going to melt and then the whole drink will get watery and you’ll complain about it. Come on. Up.”

Soonyoung blearily opened his eyes, staring blankly at Wonwoo for a second or two before flinching as he realized that Wonwoo had just come into his house without his knowledge.

“I brought you your drink, it’s downstairs,” Wonwoo said, unfazed.

Soonyoung groaned, sitting upright and clutching his back with one hand. “You really don’t know how to wake someone up nicely, do you Jeon?”

“You should be glad I spent my money on an overpriced sugar cup.”

“Hm…” Soonyoung rolled onto his back, watching Wonwoo sleepily. “Carry me.”

“Carry you what?”

“Carry me downstairs. I can’t walk.”

Wonwoo put his hands on his hips testily. “You can’t walk.”

“Yes. 100%.”

“Asshole.”

“Love you too, Jeon.” Soonyoung put his arms out above him, as if wanting Wonwoo to scoop him up like a toddler. “Come on, pick me up.”

“I’d just fall over.”

Soonyoung mock gasped. “Are you calling me fat?”

Wonwoo rolled his eyes. “No. Your body is fine. Mine is weak, however, and it certainly can’t- umph!”

Soonyoung had yanked him down to his knees, and now Wonwoo was face-level with the bed. 

“Turn around, I’ll climb onto your back,” Soonyoung ordered. “You can carry me down the stairs like that, right?”

“I… I don’t think I can…?”

“Come on, Won, don’t be a stickler.”

“You’ll be offended if I say you’re heavy!”

Soonyoung laughed like a devil, climbing onto Wonwoo’s back anyway. “Whatever. Go.”

Wonwoo miserably made his way to his feet, grabbing the edge of the bedside table to steady himself as Soonyoung’s weight pressed down on him. “I apologize in advance for my lack of tact. Maybe you should go on a diet.”

“Maybe you should go on one and get some muscle. Have you seen my abs?”

“Yeah, because matcha drinks give you abs.” Wonwoo was lying and he knew it- after all, he could feel Soonyoung’s taut body against his back. It didn’t help that Soonyoung had wrapped his legs around Wonwoo’s torso and Wonwoo was definitely feeling the crushing strength of Soonyoung’s thighs (curse dance).

“Well, whatever _you_ drank certainly didn’t help your big brain. You could’ve brought the drink up here instead of having to carry me downstairs,” Soonyoung said cheerfully as Wonwoo stumbled out of his room and down the hallway to the stairs, bent half over. 

“Your mom doesn’t like spillable things upstairs.”

“Speaking of my mom, how did you remember the garage code? Assuming you didn’t pick my front door or break a window, you came in through the garage.”

“I remember birthdays.”

“Creepy.”

“Your mom adored me, of course I remembered her birthday.”

“Adores,” Soonyoung corrected. “You don’t know how happy she is that we’re friends again.”

“Hmph. Not friends,” Wonwoo said, staring at the long trip downstairs that laid beneath them. “Well, I would’ve thought she hated me. You know. After the fight.” A beat of silence. “You probably told her all about it.”

“Oh, I did,” Soonyoung said airily. “She called both of us out for being idiots.”

“Great,” Wonwoo said, curling his fingers around the banister railing. “Um… are you sure this is a good idea?”

“Oh, Won, you never have any fun in life, do you? It’s so pitiful to see the way you’ve stiffened up after we fell out. Go on.”

Wonwoo sighed. “Your back’s already screwed up, I don’t want to-”

“Go on,” Soonyoung complained, bouncing lightly on top of him. “Hurry up!”

“Why do I feel like you’re having a lot of fun with this?”

“Hehe.”

Wonwoo took the first step and shook his head, gingerly stepping down once more. “Soonyoung, I’m really warning you-”

“Trust me, we’re fine, I always piggybacked on my dad going downstairs when I was little-”

“Key point, when you were little.” Wonwoo had a vivid memory of Jeongguk nearly bashing his head out when he’d been playing at Jimin’s house in the fifth grade and tried riding down the other boy’s stairs on his back. Jeongguk had received a few stitches and Jimin had bruised his entire side. The prospect of something similar possibly happening was nearly enough for him to put Soonyoung down on the steps right there, but Soonyoung’s ankles were digging into his thighs with the firm understanding that he wasn’t letting go. 

“The longer we stand here, the longer we’re in danger,” Soonyoung said seriously. “Come on, let’s go.”

“Fine.”

Five steps later, Wonwoo was feeling a lot better. They were only a few steps away from the end of the staircase, and he’d balanced Soonyoung a lot easier than he thought he could.

“Don’t get cocky now,” Soonyoung warned. “This is like going on autopilot halfway through a routine. It always goes bad.”

Wonwoo huffed a laugh. “I’m not getting-”

The carpet slid out from under Wonwoo’s socked foot and the next thing he knew he’d smashed down three stairs onto his face, the metal frame of his glasses pressed uncomfortably against his face, Soonyoung’s weight on top of him. Great. Wonwoo was glad that his vulnerable, weak body had provided a landing cushion for Soonyoung.

“Could you get off me?” Wonwoo coughed. “I’d like to breathe.”

No reply, and he suddenly realized that Soonyoung’s body was very, very limp on top of his.

“Shit,” Wonwoo groaned. “I swear to god, if you’ve knocked yourself out-” He wormed his way out from under Soonyoung, pulling his glasses off and inspecting them for any damage before shoving them back on his face, glancing at the shorter boy and sighing to find him unconscious.

“Come on, I brought your drink for you,” Wonwoo said exasperatedly, heading over to the kitchen and retrieving the cup, walking back to where Soonyoung lay.

Soonyoung remained motionless, his eyes closed.

Wonwoo patiently set the drink down next to Soonyoung, leaning against the last stair and pulling out his phone, mindlessly scrolling through social media as Soonyoung remained comatose.

Five minutes later, Wonwoo let out another sigh. “Please, Soonyoung. I was your best friend for years, I’m not an idiot. And you have to hit your head somewhere to be this level of unconscious, which you didn’t. At least show some respect for me seeing as I took the fall and brought you your drink so nicely.”

Soonyoung didn’t move an inch.

“Well, then. I guess I’ll just have this, seeing as you’re too busy faking your death to enjoy it,” Wonwoo said with a smirk, and before the straw even touched his lips, Soonyoung was sitting up alertly and snatching the drink from his hands.

“Won, you have to let me grow as an actor.” Soonyoung pouted, sucking up a mouthful of tapioca and chewing happily, his soft cheeks puffed up like a chipmunk’s.

Wonwoo rolled his eyes. “Word of advice, never fake a medical problem. Not everyone can read you as well as I can.”

Soonyoung stuck out his tongue at Wonwoo. “You can read me this well and still pretend we’re not friends.”

Wonwoo chose not to answer, instead holding out a hand and helping Soonyoung to his feet, noticing the wince on the older’s features. Taking mild pity on him, he wrapped an arm around Soonyoung’s body and helped him to the couch. “Are you feeling better?”

“Yeah, it was really fun to fall down the stairs with you to be honest. Especially because I’m not the one who got hurt.” Soonyoung took another sip, eyes sparkling with mischief. “Of course, if you were seriously injured I wouldn’t be poking fun, but you’re healthy enough to be as snarky as usual so I don’t see any problem with teasing you.” A wink. “Thanks for the bubble tea, though. I honestly didn’t think you’d get it for me.”

Wonwoo sat down on the couch next to Soonyoung. “I had a change of heart.”

“Proud of you.” Soonyoung stretched out. “What did you guys do at the mall?”

“Just went over our notes- Junhui had such a wonderful idea, by the way, I can’t believe I haven’t thought of it before, he said that we should record my speaking parts on someone’s phone so we can analyze it later on. Complete genius.”

“That’s impressive.”

“Right? And after that we went to go ride the carousel because Junhui wanted to, I mean I know he’s like a kid but you really can’t deny him anything. He’s got such an innocent smile, Soonyoung, you’d’ve instantly said yes too. And the vendor selling tickets said the most horrible things, so I said fuck that and took him for bumper cars instead. And he seemed to really like that, so I’m glad at least he had some fun-” Wonwoo broke off at the tense smile on Soonyoung’s face. “What?”

“What?”

“You’re smiling weird.”

“No I’m not.” Soonyoung postured for the same smile. “I always smile like this.”

“Are you upset?” Wonwoo felt sympathetic. “I’m sorry. I shouldn't talk about us hanging out without you, it was rude.”

“No, it’s not that,” Soonyoung sighed. “I just… Junhui…” he shook his head, pursing his lips as if he’d tasted something bitter.

Wonwoo’s jaw dropped. “You don’t like Junhui anymore? I thought you two got along best out of all of us!”

“I didn’t say I didn’t like him.”

“Well, you were doing the whole weird smile bit.”

Soonyoung rolled his shoulders, clearly uncomfortable. “My dad’s partnering with Mr. Wen, you know, Junhui’s dad, for some business ventures. And now all I hear is about Junhui’s study ethic and how well organized he is and how talented he is and how he can balance dance and school.”

“Oh,” Wonwoo said. He didn’t really know what to say. He was usually the person that parents used as a comparison. “I mean, I’m sure your dad still thinks you’re good at stuff. Parents are just like that, right? It’s not a reason to hate on Junhui. It’s not his fault.”

“I didn’t say it was his fault. And I don’t hate him.”

“Then stop acting like this.”

“I’m not acting stiff. Just sounded like you were having a hell more of a good time with him than with me,” Soonyoung mumbled, playing with his straw.

Wonwoo was at a loss for words. Soonyoung was acting so childish. “Do you want me to say that I have more fun with you?”

“Well, I know it’s a lie anyway because you’re so bent on the fact that we’re not friends anymore,” Soonyoung said bitterly. 

Wonwoo decided to give Soonyoung some space about this. He was already injured and crabby, and clearly the topic of Junhui wasn’t something that was going to make him feel better. “All I’m saying is that he’s a really sweet guy, okay? Please don’t turn yourself against him.”

“If he’s such a sweet guy, maybe you should’ve just gone and hung out with him all day instead of coming here to deal with me,” Soonyoung spat.

Wonwoo blinked. Now that was just out of line. He understood that Soonyoung was in pain and more liable to lash out, but taking it out on Junhui when he hadn’t even done anything wasn’t fair. “You know what-”

Wonwoo’s phone rang then, and he stood, casting Soonyoung another glare- which was returned in full wrath- before putting it to his ear. “Hi, ma.”

“Honey, come home please. There’s someone here to see you.”

Wonwoo first thought of Junhui, and then felt like a traitor because Soonyoung was still sitting here (even though Soonyoung couldn’t read his thoughts). “Who is it?”

“Just come home,” his mother said, sounding distracted, and hung up.

Wonwoo sighed, pocketing the phone. Ever since his parents had started watching that crime serial, his mother had taken to hanging up the phone after speaking mysteriously. He’d really have to reroute their television and cut the drama channel out soon. 

“Who was it?” Soonyoung sulked.

“My mom. She said I have to come home, apparently I’ve got a visitor.”

“Wonder who it is,” Soonyoung muttered. 

Wonwoo rolled his eyes, heading to the laundry room to grab his shoes before coming back, dropping them on the rug at the front door and looking up at Soonyoung as he stepped into them. “Don’t come to school tomorrow.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. I’ll send notes.” 

“Thanks,” Soonyoung mumbled. And then a soft, “Sorry. It’s not fair for me to…”

“I get it,” Wonwoo said, although he didn’t really. It felt strange. All of this did.

A few more seconds of silence.

“Well, I’ll go now,” Wonwoo exhaled, turning the knob. “Um… I’ll text you tonight.”

“Yeah. See you.”

With that, he stepped outside, shaking his head as he shut the door behind himself. 

It was a short walk through the park between the two neighborhoods, and soon he’d crossed the grassy area into the backyards of the houses on his street. 

From there it was a few quick steps around his backyard to the front door, which he swung open, heading inside. 

Jeongguk was sitting in one of the barstools at the counter, sucking on a banana milk container. “Ooh, he’s home.”

“How’d the project go?” Wonwoo asked mildly, scanning the lower floor for any sight of his mother. 

“It was easy. Tae already had his half done, so we were done in a snap. Mom’s down in the basement with dad, they’re watching that shit again,” Jeongguk answered, having understood Wonwoo’s gaze. “You’d better head upstairs.”

“Really. Who exactly is-” Wonwoo hung up his jacket, as he did so catching sight of a very familiar pair of shoes on the rack. “Oh. _Oh_.”

Jeongguk whistled, giving him a wink. “What did I tell ya? Everything gets fixed with time.”

“Is he- should I-” Wonwoo patted down his hair nervously. “What if he’s gonna beat me up or something?”

Jeongguk snorted. “I doubt it. And if so, just holler for me.”

“Right,” Wonwoo sighed, heading for the staircase. “Wish me luck.”

“Yah-huh.”

Wonwoo quickened his pace up the steps, anticipation heightening. His bedroom door was cracked open, and he heard a sniffle inside as he put his hand on the handle, tentatively opening it wider and finding his visitor sitting on the bed, their body curled inward and shaking. 

Mingyu raised his tearstained face, fingers trembling nervously as he fiddled with the hem of his sleeves, his eyes puffy and red as he looked up at Wonwoo. 

“Oh,” Wonwoo said stupidly. 

What a great start.

•

“Now this is a bit stalkerish,” Chan whispered to Hansol as they snuck into the restaurant. 

“Nonsense. We’re just looking out for Hao hyung’s safety.”

“We know that Jun hyung’s a safe guy though…?”

“Oh, you’re impossible. Yes, we’re stalking them.” 

“It’s five in the afternoon, why on earth are they at a restaurant?”

“I dunno. Maybe they couldn’t think of anywhere else to meet up- aha! I see them. Early dinner, I guess.” Hansol skirted past a few waiters, causing Chan to mutter a curse and rush after him.

“You have got to stop being this impulsive,” Chan hissed as they sat down at a nearby table, one where they could see Junhui but hide from Minghao’s gaze.

“Shut up and help me get this plant over.” Hansol dragged a potted small tree from the nearest corner, smartly placing it a few feet from them so the almost-couple sitting a few tables away wouldn’t spot them. There was no problem in Junhui seeing them, but he’d probably mention it to Minghao and Minghao would put things together.

“Orders?” a waiter asked, arriving at their table.

“We’ll take water,” Hansol replied. “That’s it.”

The waiter looked a little confused at the two teenagers that’d taken up a booth at his restaurant for a couple of glasses of free water, but he nodded and disappeared. 

“You could’ve ordered anything and you chose water. Raspberry lemonade- and I- are very disappointed in you,” Chan snapped.

“Yeah, because I have the pocket money for raspberry lemonade,” Hansol bickered back, leaning his face close to the table surface to see. “Are they holding hands?”

“I just want them to kiss so we can stop stalking them,” Chan grumbled, leaning back into his seat. 

“Well, whatever’s going on over there is extremely gay. And Hao hyung would never kiss someone in public.”

“Junhui hyung might.”

“I guess.” A few more seconds of Hansol craning his neck like an ostrich. “Wow. They- they ordered a glass of tea and they’ve put two straws in it.”

“Hao hyung is sharing a drink with someone?” Chan gaped, turning around in his seat and pushing himself up slightly to see over the booth. “Oh my god. What happened to all those germ lectures?”

“Apparently it doesn’t apply anymore,” Hansol snickered. “Gods, he’s whipped.”

“Yeah. He’s a goner.”

“Right.” Hansol nodded in thanks to the waiter as the man reappeared with their drinks. “I think he’s just too shy to tell us that he’s experimenting with his identity.”

“So doesn’t it feel wrong to be following them?”

“Eh. Slightly. But I know that in the end, he’ll need that push from us.”

“It still feels weird, Sol hyung…”

“That’s just because you’re not rebellious enough.” Hansol puffed up his chest proudly. “You gotta start breaking some rules, Channie.”

“A little rule breaking is alright, but this is just creepy.” Chan peeked over the booth edge and gasped. “Oh no,” he muttered, sinking low into his seat. “Oh no, no no-”

“What?” Hansol shifted around in his seat, catching sight of Junhui waving happily over at them. “Oh no. Oh _no_.”

Minghao’s face appeared as he turned around in his seat to see who Junhui was waving to, the smile slipping off his features and replaced with cold stone as soon as he saw them.

“Should we make a run for it?” Chan peeped.

“No point,” Hansol mumbled, seeing Minghao get up and say something to Junhui before walking over. “No point at all.”

•

Wonwoo shut his door quickly, hastening across the room and kneeling in front of Mingyu, clasping his hands before Mingyu unraveled his whole sweater from the thread he’d been anxiously pulling at. Interlacing their fingers, Wonwoo squeezed Mingyu’s hands and pressed them into the latter’s lap comfortingly. “Gyu…”

Mingyu looked down at him, sniffling as more tears streaked down his flushed cheeks. “Hyung…” he repeated, his voice breaking. 

“What’s happened?” Wonwoo persisted. The last he’d seen Mingyu, he’d been cheering on Hyunjin before the debate on Monday. Mingyu hadn’t been at school yesterday, and now he’d shown up to his house like this. “Did something happen to your grandma? Is everything okay?”

“Hyung, I miss you,” Mingyu sobbed, the dam breaking as he burst into tears. “I really, really miss you, hyung, and I understand if you don’t want to be my friend anymore because you’ve got Soonyoung hyung now, and you think I’m weird or lame or too little for you to hang out with anymore, but could you please at least tell me straight if you hate me because I really miss you-”

Wonwoo stood, quickly sitting down next to Mingyu instead and wrapping an arm around the other’s shaking frame, reassuringly stroking Mingyu’s hair as the younger boy succumbed to his emotions, burying his face in Wonwoo’s shoulder as tears leaked out onto Wonwoo’s jumper. 

“And I promise that if you be my friend again and not hate me then I’ll do everything to be better and I’ll work harder and study more and spend more time with you and do everything I can so you won’t hate me but I don’t have anyone else other than you hyung and I really, really, really don’t know what I’ll do without you but please just tell me if you don’t want to be my best friend. And I know I’ve been so horrible to you for the last week because I just felt bad, I felt like I failed you but I wanted to make it your fault and not mine, I wanted to make things better and I wanted to feel better so that’s why I said all those bad things about you to Seokmin and acted like I didn’t care, but I really do care, just please forgive me this once-”

Wonwoo continued rubbing Mingyu’s back comfortingly, knowing it was best to just let Mingyu run out of things to say. When he started rambling like this, there was no point in cutting him off to deliver a sentiment.

“Please tell me how you feel, is all I’m asking,” Mingyu ended in a broken whisper, raising his flushed face to Wonwoo’s pitying expression. 

“First,” Wonwoo said calmly, brushing Mingyu’s fringe out of his eyes and gently dabbing the tears off the latter’s face. “I never, ever would hate you for anything, Gyu. And you didn’t even do anything wrong. I made a dumbass mistake and it’s not your fault at all.”

Mingyu sniffled. “But why did you pick Soonyoung hyung? I thought we were best friends.”

“I know,” Wonwoo agreed. “We were. We are. But I was just… it was all so spontaneous and I just… I know you’re stressed more than ever this year and I just thought that maybe you wouldn’t want this responsibility.”

Mingyu nodded, looking hurt but understanding. “I would’ve taken the position if you’d asked, hyung.”

“I get that now,” Wonwoo admitted, a sheepish laugh escaping his lips. “It was dumb to just push you aside like that. I guess I thought I was granting you mercy from something else to worry about. I should’ve just called you up.” He squeezed Mingyu’s hand. “But I really miss you and I still want to be your best friend.” He swallowed, hard. “More than Soonyoung. We’re not even friends.”

“You liar,” Mingyu laughed through his tears. “You guys are close.”

“Not as much as me and my favorite puppy.” Wonwoo would’ve usually cringed at himself for talking that way, but he missed his best friend so much and it hadn’t really hit until Monday how much he’d lost. So a little overbearing affection was alright. “I can’t do this without you. And they- the committee- they’re a great support but there’s a super big hole where you belong,” Wonwoo said, lightly poking Mingyu’s chest. “Right there, in my heart, okay? I could never replace you with anyone, not Soonyoung or Jihoon or Junhui or anyone else. You’re my Mingyu, aren’t you? They could never substitute for you. And we’re best friends forever, no matter what. So please, I ask that you forgive me, not apologize, because it was me who screwed up this time, not you. Not at all. It’s my apology, Gyu.” 

Mingyu sat still, watching him, tears streaming down his cheeks.

Wonwoo laughed softly, cupping his face. “Come on, give me an answer before I start crying too.”

Mingyu blinked through the tears, a weak, relieved smile slowly spreading on his face. “Okay.”

“Okay what?” Wonwoo teased, tucking a strand of hair behind Mingyu’s ear.

“I forgive you, hyung.” That being said, Mingyu crashed into his arms, giving him a tight hug. Wonwoo winced, falling backwards onto the bed, patting Mingyu’s head as the younger curled himself up next to Wonwoo, still hugging him tightly. “I’m really sorry I talked about you like that…”

“No, I think you were in the right. What I did was so stupid,” Wonwoo placated. “And it was kind of… it made me see sense. I was just scared to come and apologize before. I thought you were really angry at me, I…” Wonwoo chuckled. “I thought Seungcheol hyung would come and beat me up if I tried talking to you. I thought you would beat me up too.”

“Hyung, I would never,” Mingyu whined. “And Cheol hyung was only disappointed, not angry.”

“I’m glad you saw that side of him, then,” Wonwoo laughed, his heart still pounding with relief that it was over, that it’d been fixed. He continued stroking through Mingyu’s hair, having missed the feeling of the younger’s soft locks tangled against his fingers. “He was absolutely terrifying.” Wonwoo felt dread as he realized something else he had to bring up. Deciding it was just best to get it over with, he went in. “Um… Gyu, actually… I can’t change my committee, so you won’t be able to…”

“It’s not about the committee,” Mingyu replied solemnly. “I just thought I lost you as a friend.”

“Oh,” Wonwoo said, relieved as he sank back onto his sheets. “So… you’re not upset?”

“Not anymore. I just want us to be close again, is all. I don’t mind Soonyoung hyung being in your committee as long as he doesn’t replace me for everything.”

“Okay. I’m cool with that.”

“And we should probably tell Seungcheol hyung that we’re good. So he can stop glaring at you.”

Wonwoo laughed. “Definitely. I’ll make sure to tell him that we’ve made up.”

Mingyu sniffled again and Wonwoo smiled, looking down at him affectionately. The younger had nuzzled into his side, pillowing his head on Wonwoo’s chest, his arms wrapped around him so tightly that it seemed like he’d never let him go. 

“Someone really missed me, huh?” Wonwoo murmured softly, drawing a consoling arm around Mingyu’s broad frame. “Clingy puppy.”

“You’ll never stop with that.”

“You like it, though. But you’re good at pretending to be annoyed by it.”

A knock at the door, and Wonwoo’s mom poked her head in. “Boys?”

“Oh, I missed that,” Mingyu mumbled.

Mrs. Jeon smiled, walking over and ruffling Wonwoo’s hair, lightly pinching Mingyu’s cheek. “Everything worked out okay?”

Both boys nodded, feeling slightly ashamed for being so childish these last few weeks.

“Mingyu darling, stay for dinner?”

Mingyu laughed. “Of course.”

“That’s the answer I love to hear.” 

Wonwoo and Mingyu exchanged a grin, both of them smiling even wider at the familiarity of it.

The storm clouds had finally parted through and the sun seemed to be shining down on them.

Life was good.

•

“We’re really, really sorry,” Chan mumbled as they followed Minghao into their apartment building.

“We didn’t mean to make it weird,” Hansol persisted, sharing a nervous look with Chan as Minghao’s shoulders remained stiff. 

They’d been greeted by Minghao and Junhui, Minghao watching them suspiciously even as Junhui invited to drive them home, as the older two were on their way out anyway. 

Everything had been fine until halfway through the ride home, when Hansol had cracked a “But did you guys have fun on your date before we got there?” and everything had gone very, very quiet.

Junhui had laughed awkwardly, not understanding the implications of it all. Minghao had lost all color in his face and turned around to give them a fake smile laden with warning, complemented with a “We were just hanging out” that was spoken in such an icy tone that the backseat duo had contemplated jumping out of the moving car.

The rest of the ride had been silent, and Minghao had barely said a half-goodbye to Junhui before rushing off to the building. Chan and Hansol had thanked a confused Junhui and hurried after their distraught friend. 

And now Minghao was storming for the elevator, sweeping right through the apartment lobby without even greeting the front desk receptionist like he did religiously every time they passed the sweet old lady.

They stepped in the elevator with Minghao, who was now pink-faced with anger. 

The doors slid closed.

“How could you even think that was acceptable!” Minghao yelled as soon as they were alone. The duo winced, glancing at each other. “Why on earth would you say that? Now he thinks I’m into him! He thinks I’m gay!”

The face that Hansol made to the floor certainly didn’t help. 

“I’m not!” Minghao said, tears brimming in his eyes. “I don’t like guys and I don’t like Junhui! When will you two accept that and stop invading our privacy? How many times have you stalked us around the whole city?”

“We just thought that you two would be great together,” Chan mumbled, scuffing at the carpet on the elevator’s floor. “He makes you happy!”

“People can make me happy without me being interested in them!” Minghao turned to the doors so they couldn’t see the tears running down his cheeks. “Do you even know what my parents would do to me if they found out- if they thought that I was into him? They already hate him for being rich, they hate anything that isn’t conservative and proper, what do you think they’d do to me?”

“You won’t like him because you’re scared?” Hansol asked gently.

“I won’t like him because I don’t like him!” Minghao cried, the doors opening. Shaking with anger and frustration, he wrapped his long coat a little tighter around himself. “I can’t call you guys my friends if you won’t respect me and my values. I’m not- I’m not like _those_ people. I’m straight.” 

“Those people?” Chan said loudly, feeling slightly angry now. He might not have figured out his own sexual orientation yet, but he knew how fond Seungkwan was of Mingyu and the fact that Minghao had just disrespected someone in his own friend circle unknowingly- it didn’t sit right with him. “What do you mean, those people? Are you telling us that your values are like your parents’? That you just hate anything that’s ‘new’ or ‘different’? That’s not the Minghao hyung I know. What happened to respecting everyone even if they don’t agree with you? You want to go back on that and be like your parents? You want to be stiff and cold and mean?”

“Don’t you _dare_ talk about my parents that way!” Minghao glared.

“We’ll talk about homophobes the way we like,” Hansol snapped.

“Just because I’m not gay doesn’t mean that I’m a homophobe-”

“No, it isn’t, but the way you’re talking about it like it’s a disease-” Chan started up. 

“Maybe it’s because I’m angry that you’re violating my privacy like this!” Minghao glared at them. “I don’t like Junhui. In fact, I feel even worse about being his friend. I understand you’ve got intentions for me but I don’t want to be gay at all. So I’m not interested. Thank you.”

“Alright, we’re sorry. We won’t try to push you two together, but this is a two way street. You can’t shove us away when we’re trying to broaden your lifeview. If you just tried a different perspective,” Chan faltered, then pushed on. “If you just _tried_ to accept the fact that you’re not locked into straight-ness for life. We’re not saying that you’re certified to be anything else, but honestly you don’t know unless you just open up your mind.”

“I don’t want to open up my mind,” Minghao snapped. “And even if I do, I won’t be supported at home. How am I supposed to get through life without my parent’s support?”

Chan deflated upon hearing Minghao’s voice shaking. He sounded like a scared, wounded animal.

Minghao was fearful. Fearful of opening his mind because he didn’t want to see what was possibly the truth. Because in gaining the truth, he might lose the support and love of his parents. 

Chan couldn’t fathom Minghao giving up on himself just because of that, but he understood that people depended on their families in different ways. So maybe it was okay to cut Minghao some slack, at least for a while. 

Now only to stop Hansol before his hotheaded best friend messed things up in his anger-

Too late. 

Hansol shouldered roughly past Minghao. “Fine. Your friends are supposed to know you better than you know yourself, but I guess I don’t know you at all.”

“Sol hyung,” Chan pleaded, but Hansol was already gone, letting himself into his apartment and slamming the door behind himself.

Minghao, eyes red-rimmed with tears, swept past Chan and into his own apartment, leaving Chan alone in the hallway as the light flickered above him, a constant reminder of every problem in his life. 

•

“...and you won’t believe what the guy selling the tickets said about Junhui,” Wonwoo ranted, spreading his footsteps a little wider to match with Mingyu’s. “He called him a baby for wanting to ride the carousel!”

“Are you kidding? Seriously!”

“I know! The audacity of these people!” 

“I mean, I still ride that thing. Guess I’m a baby too then.” 

Wonwoo nudged Mingyu’s shoulder. “Nobody’s arguing that. We should go together, it’s been too long since we went carousel-ing. Hopefully there’ll be another vendor.”

“Yeah, or you’ll beat that guy up for real this time.”

“You’d be surprised how much power I can pack in this skinny fist.”

“Sure, hyung. Whatever floats your boat.”

They lapsed into peaceful silence as they reached Mingyu’s front door, having taken the long path out of Wonwoo’s neighborhood and around the community to Mingyu’s. It had fallen dark, but they weren’t too worried about being out this late- it was only 7 and the area was pretty safe, especially for high school boys. 

“You’re coming to school tomorrow, right?” 

“Yeah. You?”

“Of course. Can’t miss a day,” Wonwoo chuckled at the exasperated look on Mingyu’s face. “Go on in, you’ve been out of your house for hours and I bet your grandma’s losing her mind.”

“I should probably be studying.” 

“Who convinced you to come over, though?”

Mingyu laughed, leaning against his doorway. “A friendly shove.”

“I expect I’ll never know.”

“It’s a secret.”

“Mhm. See you tomorrow, I’ll come pick you up.”

“Can you come in your car? I don’t feel like walking.”

“Mingyu, I hate driving to school. The parking lot is such a massacre ground, someone’s gonna crash their car into mine while backing out.”

Mingyu stuck his tongue out. “Fine.”

“Fine,” Wonwoo said at the same time, and they laughed. “I’ll bring the car.”

“Coolio.” Mingyu clicked his tongue, winking at Wonwoo. “Night, Won hyung.”

“Study! You have a Japanese test tomorrow,” Wonwoo said automatically, earning a last laugh as Mingyu shut the door behind himself. 

Wonwoo turned to go, sending one last happy glance at Mingyu’s door before heading off, beaming to himself as he skipped all the way home. 

•

“Someone’s happy,” Jeongguk said, standing in front of Wonwoo’s bedroom doorway when Wonwoo arrived there five minutes later. 

“Oh, stop,” Wonwoo said, allowing Jeongguk to give him a hug. “Thanks for the advice.”

“What advice?”

“Friends are good, brothers are good, life is good, everything’s going to be okay.”

Jeongguk grinned. “Don’t inflate my ego too much. Chan says I’m becoming a narcissist.” 

“Yeah, be glad I haven’t told your friends about that habit of mooning at your face every day after you shower.”

Jeongguk shoved him playfully. “I’m sorry I got all the handsome genes.”

“Watch it,” Wonwoo warned him, stepping into his room and turning to close the door. “I’m studying until bed. Try and sleep before midnight, will you? It’s not good for you to be up so late.”

Jeongguk stuck out his tongue. “Okay, dad.”

“I’ll tell dad about you staying up until three every morning.”

“Alright, fine, I’ll try and lay down by one.”

“I’ll take it.” With that, Wonwoo closed his door.

Grinning, Jeongguk headed to his room next door, pulling out his phone and starting a group call. 

“What’s this all about?” Chan inquired, his face appearing onscreen.

“Wait until everyone’s here,” Jeongguk replied as Hansol and Jimin appeared as well, followed by Seungkwan and finally Taehyung. “I have a very big announcement.”

“You’ve decided to grow your hair out,” Taehyung betted.

“Stupid, he already decided to do that. He probably beat my score in-” Jimin started.

“You two, stop it,” Jeongguk said exasperatedly. “Right. Now that I have everyone’s attention.”

“So much suspense,” Hansol snickered.

“He should write a screenplay,” Chan tagged on.

Jeongguk rolled his eyes. “I was going to be dramatic but you all don’t deserve it. Mingyu hyung came over and made up with Wonwoo hyung.”

“Ooh!” Seungkwan grinned. “So it worked!”  
“What worked?” Jimin inquired.

“I told him to get over himself and go and talk things out,” Seungkwan shrugged. “I said it was a friendly shove reminding him to take initiative for himself.”

“Wow,” Jeongguk said, impressed. “That’s…”

“Boo getting real bold with his man,” Taehyung teased.

“Guys…” Seungkwan turned bright red.

“Call that a boo-merang of an idea,” Chan added.

“It’s such a boo-tiful sentiment,” Jeongguk couldn’t resist from adding. 

“He deserves a boo-ty smack for that big brain thinking,” Jimin finished. 

Seungkwan rolled his eyes and his icon disappeared from the call seconds later, resulting in raucous laughter.

“So everything’s good with everyone?” Jimin asked. “If anyone has an argument they need to vent about, now’s the time.”

“Everything’s good,” Hansol replied, although now he looked slightly on-edge.

“Oh, please don’t tell me someone else is having a conflict,” Jeongguk groaned. “Seriously, can you people never get it together?”

“It’s always complicated,” Chan sighed. “It’s always complicated with us.”

Jeongguk couldn’t deny that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> and they’re friends again awww
> 
> so basically jealous soonyoung, innocent junhui, sweet jihoon, scheming hansol chan, angry minghao, baby mingyu, relieved wonwoo, and mischievous jeongguk and company. 
> 
> i think i covered every emotion on the spectrum on this chapter and i’m exhausted. but next chapter has so so so much cool stuff in it and i cant wait to share!! see you guys then
> 
> i’m so sorry i really wanna respond to your comments but there’s so many and i’m so busy!! i see each and every one i promise and your support is so valuable and important. just wanted to acknowledge that here! 
> 
> thank you so much for reading!! 
> 
> tell someone you love them today! i love all of you <3  
> -mingyuwu


End file.
